


Roll for Initiative

by shrimpossible



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Related, Crushes, Eventual Romance, Friend Group Dynamics, Friendship, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Paladin Phoenix, Tabletop Gaming, Wizard Miles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28776714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrimpossible/pseuds/shrimpossible
Summary: A story about what might happen if Phoenix, Miles, Maya, Larry, and Dick Gumshoe happened to be in a D&D group together. Featuring: secret crushes, dating horror stories, and sexual jokes from Larry Butz.
Relationships: Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey & Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Larry Butz & Miles Edgeworth & Phoenix Wright, Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright
Comments: 16
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! For those that are curious, this first part starts right before Rise From the Ashes and I'm planning to loosely follow the events of Justice for All. Also I've never shared any creative writing I've written publicly like this, and it's my first fanfic ever, so any suggestions are welcome. Also also, there's a few slightly non-canonical things (mainly other character's reactions to Miles' suicide note) that will happen in later chapters, just fyi.
> 
> I'll attempt to update every week, I actually have the rest written, but I want to revise :)

> _Our story begins with the arrival of a storm in the city of Calda. How appropriate as, more than anything, the Calda Crossroads is a place for gathering stories. It was a time when adventurers were not uncommon in the Juicy Mushroom, a tavern just inside the city walls. A visitor to the Mushroom could certainly expect to hear many a tale of far-away lands; maybe they've been wandering through Zamaratt and Jlewaru, seen the majesty of the Elven forest of Penlindra or borne witness to the grandeur of the Dwarven Empire. But our saga tonight begins only with a lone tiefling, by himself at the inn._
> 
> _ The rain outside blows against the side of the tavern, sloshing rhythmically as the wind whistles through the small windows. It reminds Sly Isaac of his time out at sea. Though terrifying at first, one can grow to prefer the inside of a ship, prefer to be immersed in the motion of the sea. Isaac, in a very real way, found himself at home upon those decks. _
> 
> _ But Calda was also an easy town to find himself in. To anyone who asks, it doesn't matter why he came ashore, only that he's here in Calda now, and what's more he's made something of himself as a merchant, a trader, yes a legitimate businessman, even! And yet… Pulling his cloak tightly around himself, the tiefling orders another ale, feeling a chill settle into his scaly skin. His time as a legitimate entrepreneur hasn't exactly dulled his paranoia, and there was an odd feeling in the air. The tiefling swigs his ale. It's probably nothing. It's positively toasty inside the safety of the inn, a fire roaring and the patrons laughing as a bard plucks a bawdy tune in an overstuffed armchair. _
> 
> _ On previous nights, at the city's edge, there was the usual bustle of traders and carts, but the storm has left only the steady drone of rain in their place. _
> 
> _ That monotony comes to a swift end as the door to the inn bursts open. A stranger steps forward, a peculiar sort of man. To start he looks like something straight out of a story book -- a knight in actual shining armor, a magnificent sword strapped to his back and a shield in one hand. All of this is not even to mention that he's blue. One might think he was left in the rain too long and had frozen to death, if not the fact that his cheeks flush a deeper cerulean as he removes his damp cloak and fusses with his hair. _
> 
> _ The tavern door opens again. This time an elf, with a small library's worth of books under his arm, and an exceedingly stern expression. His mouth is a thin line, and his eyes narrow as he surveys the inn. He's dressed in fine crimson robes that seem perfectly dry. Sly Isaac watches them closely, hands near his throwing axes. The larger, bluer man lingers next to his companion briefly before struggling to shut the door behind him. There is a pause around them, as if the entire inn is deciding what sort of people they are. All sorts of people come through the crossroads of Calda, but these people are unusual even by the inn's metropolitan standards. The blue knight waves his arm, pulling a handful of tiny droplets out of the elf's hair. His companion glowers at him in response. The knight turns to address the tavern, speaking in a booming voice: _
> 
> _ "Good evening, fellow patrons! Might we inquire about a hearty meal?" he says. "And some ale, if you've got it! Elven perhaps, for my lord?" He turns his attention towards the bard. "By all means, man, don't stop the festivities on our account!" _
> 
> _ He locates the innkeeper behind the bar, and shouts at him for a bit. "Do you perhaps have a room for the evening? We have many miles to cover-and the rain has left us quite wet! Well, one of us anyway." He frowns, then continues. _
> 
> _ The man is....loud...but his demeanor carries an extremely cheerful affectation, which is...unexpected. One might call it grating. Annoying, even.  _

"Are you seriously going to talk like that the whole game?"

Phoenix turns to the source of the complaint, trying to put on a straight face. “What?” he asks. “I’m just getting in character.”

Edgeworth is staring daggers into the sheet of paper in front of him, drumming his fingers on the hard plastic of Gumshoe’s card table. His nose is slightly wrinkled in displeasure, and Phoenix notices it brings out the little freckles scattered over it. There’s so many things he’s noticing about Edgeworth now that they’re elbow to elbow at a table. Like how he smells sort of spicy. But not like Old Spice spicy, kind of like the shop that sells gourmet spices by the bus stop near his office. Maybe he’s been at a spice market this morning or something. He’s interrupted from these wandering thoughts by Larry laughing at his other side.

“Edgey regrets everything. Especially agreeing to play with us. How did you even convince him to show up?"

Phoenix isn’t sure,actually. He was as shocked as anyone else when Gumshoe received a call from Edgeworth, asking about the best place to park near the apartment. Before that they were figuring the game was a bust since Maya didn’t make her train out to the city, and were deciding if they should do a movie or poker instead. But with Edgeworth’s arrival the game was back on, and so far it hadn’t been a complete disaster, so there was that.

> _ Sly Isaac eyes the odd couple, taking note of the elf’s fine clothing, and his books. It tells him a couple things. Most importantly that he’s a man with a fair bit of disposable income. He waits patiently in his seat as one of the tavern girls tries unsuccessfully to flirt with his lordship. Eventually they’re sat at a corner table not too far away from him. The genasi awkwardly stows his sword and shield against the wall. Having finished this task, he saunters over to the bar and retrieves a few coins from a pouch on his belt. The girl from earlier accepts his coin and pulls two ales, one of which the knight consumes most of on the way back to their table. The serving girl’s eyes are glued to the pair much to Sly Isaac’s chagrin. He had been perfectly fine as the girl’s flirting partner in nights past, but it seems she’s drawn like a magpie to shiny things. The blue knight is flitting between the patrons of the inn, mug in hand, seemingly making friends wherever he goes, his joyful laugh and twisting iridescent hair making him seem larger than life. The elf however…. _

“What are you doing, Mr. Edgeworth, sir?” Phoenix is surprised at how good Gumshoe is at describing things and prompting everyone to add bits and pieces into the descriptions as well. Perhaps cruelly, he hadn’t guessed that the detective had much of a gift for storytelling, but clearly he was mistaken.  Maybe he’s always thinking about this kind of stuff which is why his real job suffers.

Edgeworth is furiously scanning the assortment of papers and books in front of him as if the answer is printed somewhere. Phoenix is considering suggesting something and feeling a substantial amount of secondhand embarrassment for not really explaining the entire concept to him yesterday when the spontaneous invite had been issued. But evidently Edgeworth does find the answer he’s looking for.

“I’m writing a love letter.”

He barely has time to question his own sanity before Larry bursts into laughter.

“What? Who are you in love with Edgey?”

“No, no, no, no!” Phoenix shushes Larry with a withering glare. “Not Edg---Miles. His character. We’re supposed to be in character. Stop derailing things.” he says sternly.

"Jeez, Nick calm down! I don't have to be in character the whole time. But fine." Larry sighs. “I want to go over to the new elf guy and ask who he’s writing a letter to.”

Edgeworth sets his character sheet down and looks at him expectantly. “Well, I’m not sure. I wasn’t provided a lot of character background. Not compared to what you have, Wright.” He peers over at the backstory and description portion of Phoenix’s sheet, which he hastily tries to cover up with the player’s handbook next to him. He’s written kind of a lot, but fortunately it’s not really legible.  _ Just leave it to me to get way too involved,  _ he thinks to himself.

“Call me Phoenix. We aren’t at work.” He fidgets with his pencil. “I mean, all this backstory stuff I wrote down on your sheet I just rolled off a random table. You kind of have to fill in the blanks and figure out what it all really means. You know, use your imagination and--”

Edgeworth’s face darkens. “Randomly generated. Really?” He taps a bullet point near the bottom. “ ‘Secretly I think everyone is beneath me?’” He looks genuinely offended, and Phoenix feels a knot forming in his stomach. “I seem to recall you saying that this character was a lot like me. And that makes it easier to act like them or something.”

“No! No, not...that part. That part isn’t like you.” _This is the worst. Revising my opinion of this being a disaster for sure._ He **had** said that of course. Miles Edgeworth, the human prosecutor wasn’t much different from Quinfaren Inkstone in that they both came from well-off backgrounds and had studied for years to be good at what they did. But whatever else they had in common, that was up to Edgeworth to decide. He thinks in retrospe ct he should have left those sections blank, but he’s also not one to leave things half finished.

Edgeworth is still in argument mode. “Furthermore, I wasn’t aware I was  _ supposed _ to be acting _.  _ Isn’t this a game? It seems more like an ametuer improv class.”

“Look,” says Phoenix, “you don’t have to do that. The whole talking in silly voices and shit. That’s just me, having fun. You don’t have to roleplay if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, consent is very important in roleplay scenarios.” Larry punctuates the faux-serious tone of his statement with a belch.

Phoenix buries his head in his hands.  _ Amazing. I will now crawl in a hole and die. _

He’s rescued not a moment too soon by Gumshoe inviting Edgeworth and Larry to roleplay as their characters meeting. “I mean, if you want to of course.” he says, looking nervously over at Edgeworth.

“I am perfectly fine with the roleplay aspect of this activity.” Edgeworth folds his arms, bumping lightly against Phoenix in the process. “Let us continue.”

> _ Quinfaren looks up from his letter to see a tiefling has joined him at his private table. “Bad weather tonight, isn’t it,” the tiefling comments. He’s an odd looking fellow, with bright sulfur-yellow skin and blood red eyes. The elf doesn’t respond, and he continues. “There aren’t often elves this far south. I would imagine the climate isn’t what you’re used to. What brings you this way?”  _
> 
> _ “You are interrupting me.” The elf sets down his quill and looks at Isaac like he is something putrid. He looks fairly young, probably no more than a few hundred but his long braided hair is already streaked with silver. _
> 
> _ “Ah, sorry.” Isaac extends a clawed hand. “Isaac Spalding, Sly Isaac to friends and associates.” He flashes a toothy grin at the elf, who does not reach out to take his hand. _
> 
> _ “Is this man bothering you, my lord?” The blue guy appears alongside the elf, swift and silent as a shadow. _
> 
> _ “I’m merely making small talk, sir knight. I wonder if you might require something to keep yourselves dry on your travels.” He proceeds to unroll a cloth bundle and set out a few glass vials on the table. “I have some potions that protect from the elements, and might make the journey a bit more comfortable. Name’s Sly Isaac by the way.” _
> 
> _ “Sly Isaac.” The knight’s face lights up with recognition for an instant. “Yes, I think we may have sailed together at one point.” _
> 
> _ Isaac doubts this. It’s difficult to imagine a road starting at “pirate” that ends up at “royal knight.” But then again, one sees odd things every day. He’s of course run into his fair share of water genasi out on the high seas. Maybe it isn’t impossible.  _
> 
> _ The blue gentleman does shake his hand. “Sir Drayce. Knight of the realm, currently in service of Lord Quinfaren Inkstone. I am his, er, protector during his travels.” _
> 
> _ The elf shoots his knight a look of distaste. “I am a wizard with a sizable arsenal of spells. Certainly I don’t need protection.” _

“Wow, phrasing,” whispers Larry.

“Shut. Up.” mutters Phoenix through gritted teeth.

> _“Wow! A wizard!” Isaac tries his best to hide his excitement. He’d been trying to move a selection of supposedly magical amulets for months now. The only trouble was he had no idea what any of them did. He looks over Quinfaren skeptically. “Are you any good though?”_

“Time out. Wright.” 

Phoenix snaps to attention, in spite of himself.

“Phoenix,” he corrects.

“Phoenix.” He isn’t quite prepared for the effect of his name on Edgeworth’s lips, but the moment passes before he can react. “Do any of these spells do anything besides hurt people? Can’t I make doves appear or something?”

“Uh, sure, Prestidigi--” He glances at Edgeworth’s character sheet and frowns. “Wait...who picked these spells.”

“Me!” 

_ Ah, Larry. That explains so much.  _ “So, uh I don’t think you can make doves appear.”

“Why would you want to?” Larry laughs, “You’re a wizard, not a magician. Prestidigitation is boring and useless”

“That’s an absolutely garbage take. Prestidigitation is amazing for—“

“How about color spray?” Edgeworth asks. “That seems harmless.”

“No, not harmless at all. In fact it would be pretty bad to cast it right now. It’s meant to disable enemies. Though sleep is a better choice, really. Don’t worry, we can change some of these around.” “What?! Sleep over color spray? Now  _ that  _ is a garbage take.”

> _ Quinfaren declines an overt demonstration of his abilities, insisting that would destroy the inn, its patrons, or perhaps both if they were unlucky. Isaac seems convinced enough by the tidy writing and mystic runes in the elf’s spellbook. _
> 
> _ Sir Drayce however, is nursing increasingly severe hunger pangs. “Where is that serving girl?” he asks, trying to spot her in the crowded tavern. “She was supposed to bring us steak and kidney pie.” _
> 
> _ “Oh I’d imagine she’s working out a way to bring his lordship quite a bit more than that,” says Sly Isaac winking conspiratorially at his dinner companions. _
> 
> _ The elf frowns, “Well I-“ _
> 
> _ Suddenly a horrible scream rings out from the kitchen. Sir Drayce hurriedly grabs his sword and shield and pulls a glowing pendant out from under his tunic. It engulfs him in a soft ethereal light. _

“I run towards the screaming.”

“Why? Wright, you don’t even know what’s going on.”

“It doesn’t matter! Someone’s in trouble, and I have to help. I’m a knight of the realm!”

> _ A man in robes with glowing orange eyes holds the serving girl against the wall, an arm twisted behind her back and his hand over her mouth. She looks up at him with terrified, wide eyes as he strokes her hair. “A fine offering for our dark beast,” he mutters quietly. _
> 
> _ “Let go of her you creep!” The tiefling had caught up with Sir Drayce and he lets one of his throwing axes fly at the evil intruder. The axe finds its mark, burying itself in the man’s thigh as he howls in pain and rage. As the girl breaks free from his hold, Drayce throws a fishing net over the mage. “Any last words?” he asks, drawing his sword and aiming the point at his chest. _
> 
> _ The stranger's lips curl and he whistles loudly, the sound ringing against the stone walls of the kitchen. A low growl settles over the group, its volume increasing...... _
> 
> _ A bear bursts into the kitchen, lumbering along on all four feet, saliva dripping from its fangs. It spies Quinfaren, who is hangin back from the conflict, readying a spell that glows on his slender fingers. There is a brief moment of silence before the bear lunges forward and its jaws close around Quifaren's arm. He reaches helplessly for his dagger as the beast carves long slashes across his chest. _

“7 damage?” says Gumshoe, looking up from the books scattered around him.

Phoenix watches Edgeworth go quiet, his eyes fixed on the sheet in front of him.

“Wright, how does that work? I only have 5 hp. Does that mean I’m dead already?”

“You get a save! You aren't dead yet, I'll heal you, hang in there!"

“Well do I at least get to cast my missile?”

“No, sorry. Just roll the 20 sided one.” Phoenix feels terrible. This session probably wasn’t any fun at all for Edgeworth.  _ Why did I even ask him?  _ Well, he certainly knows the answer to that one. He’s not busy at all these days, hasn’t had a case in months, in fact, but he’s taking to eating lunch in the courtroom cafeteria anyway, because, well….

Because theoretically he’d run into Miles Edgeworth in the hallway on the way back because Miles Edgeworth is freakishly disciplined and if he was in a trial on the west wing of the building he would be walking past the cafeteria from his office towards the elevators to get to the courtroom around 12:45 at the absolute latest. And then, maybe they could have a conversation. Or make plans to have a conversation later. And then he could just say some stuff he needed to get off his chest.

_ I’m sorry that I basically stopped talking to you after your dad died and you moved away but I was nine years old and I knew that even then I was more of a fuck-up than most people so I never thought about talking to you ever again until I discovered you turned into an asshole. But then recently I realized you weren’t an asshole, you were only acting like one so it’s weird that you do that now but it’s fine I guess. _

_ Anyway, I actually really admire you and I always have. _

The only trouble, of course, was that he couldn’t figure a way to say all that in a span of minutes. So the plan had evolved to a friendly invitation to lunch next time. But the trouble here was that this sounded like a date, which would be fine obviously, but it didn't  _ have _ to be a date, that was the point. He couldn’t figure out how to express that either.

To make a rather long story short, he had dragged himself to the shit courthouse cafeteria for lunch about five or six times now, spent way too much time thinking about what to say, and ended up missing Edgeworth by a matter of moments each time. 12:57. 12:48. 12:47. He was getting better with his timing, but then something unexpected happened last Friday.

Edgeworth had gotten in line behind him at the lunch counter.

He should have been completely and totally prepared for this moment, should have said all the stuff he needed to say and been done with this, but obviously he wasn’t prepared at all. Not for this. So, he’d started rambling about the weekend, as he hurriedly ordered his usual meal. He’d mentioned this game group that he was trying to make happen and it seemed weird at best and rude at worst to not throw out a “Anyway, it’s Saturday morning, so if you want to come it would be great to have you!” For his part, Edgeworth had expressed polite interest, but obviously that was the expected response when someone rambles at you, so he had figured that was that and certainly had no expectation that the man would actually show up, here, in Gumshoe’s tiny apartment, so close to him that they brush and bump against each other constantly. 

But for all that, it isn’t that bad really.

The die clatters to the table. “It’s a 19,” says Edgeworth. A subdued cheer at the table. Quinfaren isn’t out yet.

> _Sly Isaac pulls an arrow from the quiver on his back and carefully loads his bow. Losing the arrow, it whistles through the cramped kitchen and finds its mark in the bear's flank. It coughs and snorts, spraying the floor with blood, but it’s still alive and very angry looking. Drayce leaps to his feet, leaving the mage to struggle with the net he’s tangled up in, and drags the unconscious Quinfaren to a stack of potatoes in the corner. The pendant against Sir Drayce’s chest glows a bit brighter as he removes a glove. His hands are glowing now too as he gently brushes Quinfaren’s wounded chest and shoulders._

Phoenix freezes. Somewhere in describing all of this, he had actually grabbed Edgeworth on the shoulder. He can feel the fabric of his turtleneck under his fingers and under that _... _ well his skin one would suppose. He jerks away guiltily.  _ Can’t I just get through this one thing without incident?  _ He resolves to try not to cross any more professional boundaries. 

“Uh, well, anyway, you’re healed now.”

He can feel Edgeworth’s gaze, but doesn’t want to meet his eyes. “How much?” he asks, “Am I fully recovered?” He’s speaking quietly enough that it feels like it’s just the two of them all the table. It’s a bit...intimate for some reason.

“Yeah, you’re all better. Fully healed. Just don’t get hurt again, because I’m spent. I can only do it again after I've had 8 hours of sleep.”

“Phrasing.” says Larry. 

> _ The evil mage throws off the net, getting to his feet unsteadily. Sly Isaac barely has time to swing at him with one of his axes before he disappears in a puff of smoke. Quinfaren rises to his feet too, chanting as his hands glow once more.  _
> 
> _ The bolt heats the entire kitchen with arcane fire as it arcs from Quinfaren's palm to the attacking bear, hitting it squarely in the head with a thunderous crack. It lets out a sound that it more scream than roar, before slumping in a heap on the floor, its pelt singed and smoking.  _
> 
> _ Quinfaren snaps his spellbook shut. "You see, sir knight? Easily done." _
> 
> _ Sir Drayce glares at him. “Well that’s very nice isn’t it, my lord. So glad you aren’t a bleeding heap on the floor.” _
> 
> _ “I’m grateful for your help, Sir Drayce. Truly. I won’t be taking you for granted again.” _
> 
> _ The knight seems a bit taken aback by that. “Well..just be sure to keep yourself hidden next time.” _
> 
> _ The teifling gets to his feet as well. “Shame he got away.” He turns to the serving girl who is cowering on the other side of the potatoes. “You all right, babe?” He earns a slap in the face for his trouble as she darts off. Quinfaren observes the encounter nonchalantly, before addressing Sly Isaac.  _
> 
> _ "It seems you are a competent warrior. Will you accompany us on our travels?" _
> 
> _ Isaac perks up. “Sure. Though, to be honest, I haven’t been honest.” He takes out various bundles from his pack. “I’ve, uh, acquired most of these through graverobbing. You’d be surprised at the number of adventurers heading out from here, decked head to toe in fancy gear only to drown crossing the river or get eaten by wolves or whatever. The profit margin is great! But I don’t know what half this stuff is even for.” He looks up at the wizard. “Would you be willing to help me identify these so I can sell them at a higher price?” _
> 
> _ Sir Drayce snorts but before a lecture can start Sly Isaac tells them his tale. About how he’s really only doing this for his little girl, who is very sick. Afflicted with some demonic curse that causes her to be very weak.  _
> 
> _ “Actually,” he turns toward Sir Drayce. “You can heal people. Do you think you could help her?” _
> 
> _ “I doubt it. I’ve seen quite a few with this affliction recently. It troubles many in our order how rampant demons are these days.” says Sir Drayce. “But I can take a look anyway. Perhaps I can ease her suffering if only a bit.” _
> 
> _ “But in exchange,” says Quinfaren, “You will serve as our guide. I certainly don’t want to get eaten by wolves. Or bears for that matter.” _
> 
> _ “Sure,” he says. “As long as I'm not too much of a third wheel."  _

Phoenix could swear he sees the barest hint of a smile on Edgeworth’s face, and more improbably, a slight blush creep into his cheeks.

“Well,” he says, folding his hands in front of his chest. “We all survived. Very good. I do apologize, but I must be leaving.” He looks at Phoenix. "I....enjoyed it. Will this be every Saturday at 11 then?"

"Uh, yeah that works for me! Gumshoe?"

"Yep!"

"I'm not busy either if you care," says Larry through a mouthful of chips.

"I know you aren't busy, you don't have a job or a girlfriend."

"That's so harsh! Why do I hang out with you again?"

Edgworth is headed towards the door. “Uh, wait!” Phoenix scrambles out of his seat to catch up to him. “Thanks for coming.” he says, holding the door open for Edgeworth, close enough to feel his breath on his cheeks, close enough to see his freckles and....just...very,very, close.

"Yes.” That voice, the quiet one that feels like it’s just for him. “I look forward to next time. Hopefully I'll see you at lunch before then." And with an uncharacteristically genuine smile, he's gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more backstory on the D&D characters! Would love to hear your comments, it's pretty challenging to write two stories at once, so to speak, so I'm hoping things aren't too confusing.

“You actually showed up!”

Maya barely has time to process anything, not the decor of Gumshoe’s apartment, not her trepidation about this entirely new experience, and certainly not her exhaustion after having left at an truely ungodly hour to show up here on a Saturday before Phoenix scoops her up in a bone-crushing hug. “Oh, god Nick, you are literally killing me.”

He lets go. “Pretty sure you’re still doing the thing where you use the word ‘literally’ incorrectly. Miles is gonna love that.”

“I couldn’t breathe, ass!” She swats him on the arm gently. “And he’s ‘Miles’ now?”

Phoenix studies his shoes, not quite smiling but...not quite not. She’s aware of his awkwardness now. Did he used to be awkward? Maybe, but not quite like this. She scans Larry, to see if he’s picking this up. He grins widely at her, grateful for the attention. A month isn’t so long to go without seeing someone, but it’s like she’s missed a joke that everyone else understood long ago. 

“Well, I dunno,” Phoenix says eventually. “I figure first names are good. Makes it feel less like work, you know?”

“Yeah.” Maya says. _No work talk, okay, message received._ It doesn’t stop her from wondering about everything that’s happened since she’s been gone. The idea of Phoenix in an office by himself for eight hours a day seems wrong on a visceral level. Is he still 20 minutes late nearly every day? Does he play music in the afternoons, singing loudly though there’s no one’s concentration to disrupt. Has he started to sit at her sister’s desk and use her things, instead of dusting them and working in the corner like Mia has just stepped out to lunch and will be back any second?

Phoenix grabs a beer from the fridge, nodding towards Gumshoe and Larry. He shifts uncomfortably under her gaze. “What?”

“Just practicing my mind reading powers.”

His eyes widen. “They teach you how to do that?”

“No.” She laughs, collapsing into the chair on Phoenix’s left. She hadn’t realized how much accoutrement D&D required. There shouldn’t be this many dice needed from what she’s read of the rules, but everyone seems to have their favorites anyway, little piles of colorful plastic next to the guys. She turns to look at Phoenix. “How long have you guys been playing?”

“Just for a few weeks-”

“I mean, like in general. You seem to know the game pretty well.”

“We used to play all the time!” Larry grins from Phoenix’s other side. “Like back in high school. Remember that bard you made? ‘Fabian Nior’?”

“Oh god, no…”

“--he was so cool though! The pentagram tattoos? The flock of crows he could control? The whole concept of magical primal screams?”

“Sorry, your Honor, I sure don’t recall that.” 

“I miss Goth Phase Phoenix, that guy was fun.”

She can’t help but interrupt at this. “Are there pictures? You probably had MySpace if you were that kind of kid. I’ll find them, nothing ever gets deleted from the internet.”

Phoenix’s resolve collapses at this moment and he dissolves into laughter. “Good luck,” he says grinning at her. “Let me know what you find.”

“So, he actually going to show?” she asks, looking over Phoenix’s collection of dice. He’s partial to blue naturally, there’s polyhedrons swirled with indigo, teal, and speckled lavender, but here and there there’s other colors too, bright clear candy pink, bone white, and some smaller ones with silver glitter suspended inside.

“Yeah!” Phoenix fiddles with the label on his bottle. “I mean, he’s been coming.”

“Even with all your work stuff?” They haven’t talked a lot, but she’s heard bits and pieces here and there. Some kind of crazy case where the chief prosecutor was accused of murder but really she was covering for the chief of police. It sounded absolutely bonkers, and she could certainly imagine the chaos that was unfolding at the prosecutor’s office after all that.

“I mean you know Edgeworth. He’s like, made a commitment to showing up, I think. And he’s basically the epitome of reliability.”

“Thought we were calling him Miles.”

As if summoned by her words, a grey-haired man strolls into the apartment pulling the door shut behind him. He’s wearing a cardigan and khakis and to Maya he looks weird when he’s dressed so casually. Like someone’s rich dad who got lost on the way back from the PTA meeting. She’s about to share this little bit of observational humor with Phoenix, but…he’s not even looking, just doodling on his character sheet instead. Something’s weird about that, but she can’t pin down what it is before Larry yells across the room. 

“There he is! What are ya having, Edgey? Gumshoe’ll get you a beer. Or whiskey. Or both.”

“Just the whisky,” says Edgeworth softly. He strides towards her chair and then does a double take as he notices she’s inhabiting the seat next to Phoenix.

“Ah, Miss Fey.” He extends a hand awkwardly and offers her a forced smile.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Edgeworth.” She can fake her way through pleasantries too, if that’s what they’re doing. It seemed like they were more familiar once, but maybe not. “Guessing you usually sit here. I can move.”

“No, no, quite all right. Wrig—-ah-Phoenix usually has to assist me with looking things up. Perhaps I will get round to preparing for the game one of these days. Or at least putting together better notes. I ought not to be so dependent on him, after all.”

“Hey, take it easy on yourself, sir,” calls Gumshoe from the kitchen. He thrusts a solo cup into Edgeworth’s hand and pats him on the back rough enough to slosh around the drink. “Sure you’re having a hell of a time at the office with Lana out. I can tell you everything is barely functional at criminal affairs dealing with the aftermath of everything. I barely have time for lunch these days.”

“Sounds horrible,” says Maya, “Good thing I gave up my law career.” She cracks a grin at Phoenix but he’s...staring at Edgeworth. But also pretending not to. Glancing at the doodles, they look like little M’s, some of which have been retconned, turned into sideways lightning bolts with heavier pencil pressure.

_Oh, okay._ _Guess I have missed a lot then._

Well, perhaps not, she reflects. They did have a weird dynamic. This was just an evolution of that weirdness. Or maybe the cause of it.

_Heh, I can read minds after all,_ she thinks smugly to herself. She yanks on Phoenix’s arm. “Why don’t we play on your couch, Gumshoe?” She gestures towards the sad futon in the corner. “More room.”

“Oh, ummm..”

Before he can respond, she scoops up a handful of Phoenix’s dice and saunters over to the couch and associated coffee table. Phoenix is grumbling about how she can use the dice but “not the green one, that’s my lucky one.” She deposits the handful onto a corner of the table.

“Dibs on the beanbag.” She doesn’t particularly want to sit there, it looks a bit crusty, but it’ll do well for her plan.

“Good choice, that’s the newest thing in the house!” Gumshoe drags a chair over and settles himself at the coffee table. “I guess the three amigos can all sit on the sofa, then.”

_Perfect._

> _Sly Isaac’s throat is dry as he lays on the ground, panting quietly. Beside him are the remains of a horrible creature, part snake, part woman. Her body is mangled and burnt, but her fangs remain, mocking him from the lifeless horror of her face. Even now, he feels the burn of her venom in his blood, making him weak, slow, drowsy. Drayce is tending to him as best he can, but the Yuan-Ti had afflicted the paladin with a terrible spell which very nearly froze him to the ground before she perished. At the end, Drayce had shattered the ice which imprisoned him, but he shook violently, teeth chattering as he sopped at Isaac’s wounds with a bit of cloth. Quinfaren traces a protective circle on the ground around them, the incantation mingling with the unpleasant animal sounds in the dark forest. Quinfaren is blessedly unhurt this time, having made himself invisible when the serpent woman had first appeared. As he pockets his bit of chalk, he catches a glimpse of motion just past the trees. Trying to steady his racing heart, the elf calls out._
> 
> _“Who’s there?”_
> 
> _“My name is Suzette. Are you travelers? The woods aren’t safe at night. There are vile Yuan-Ti who thirst for human blood.” The young woman is dark haired and extremely beautiful. She’s dressed in a long cloak paired with black leather boots and carries a longbow._

“So, basically just how you look in real life.”

“Larry, don’t be a creep.” Maya tosses her hair over one shoulder. “Unless, you’re talking about the longbow.”

Phoenix is staring at her. “Why is your name Suzette?”

“It’s a human name! I have met humans named Suzette!”

Edgeworth clears his throat. “Does Suzette not notice that we are well aware of the Yuan-Ti problem?”

Gumshoe giggles, shaking his head. “Uh..yeah, she probably does. Suzette, it looks like these guys are pretty hurt. And there’s a dead Yuan-Ti next to them.”

> _Sly Isaac feels hands on his injured arm and tries to shake the assailant off only to feel their grip tightening. “It’s okay.” Suzette smiles at him, her face refreshingly non-snakelike. “I’m here to help you back to my camp. You should be safe there.”_
> 
> _Quinfaren studies her carefully, trying to determine if she’s trustworthy. There’s something just a bit off about her, but he can’t determine what. After this long assessment, he looks over at the dead snake woman. “What should we do about the body? If those cultists get a hold of her....”_
> 
> _“Cultists?” asks Suzette, her brows furrowed in concern. “There are sometimes druids who are a bit overzealous, but I haven’t heard of cultists.”_
> 
> _“My fault,” mutters Drayce, the chill having taken most of his bravado. “We had a run in with their leader, and I let him escape”_
> 
> _Quinfaren huffs. “We were being attacked by a bear at the time.”_
> 
> _“Which undoubtedly made him all the more angry. I didn’t know it was his pet.” Sir Drayce leans against a tree, rubbing his hands together. “The man is called Loronar. He leads a group called the Brotherhood of the Bloodleaf”_
> 
> _Suzette straightens up in alarm. “No,” she says quietly. “Here?”_
> 
> _“You’ve heard of them, I take it?”_
> 
> _She is quiet for a moment. “A long time ago. I mostly heard stories.” Her eyes dart around the clearing. “Last call if you’re coming with me to camp.” And without another word she turns on her heel and walks into the forest._
> 
> _“Wait!” calls Sly Isaac weakly as he gets to his feet. A shivering Sir Drayce follows. Quinfaren takes one last look at the corpse they’ve left behind before casting a bolt of fire to clean up their mess._
> 
> _She leads them to a small outcropping of stone. An iron pot hangs over a stone fire pit, but otherwise there is no sign of habitation. As they arrive at the camp, an enormous toad, the size of a cat comes galloping up to them. Sly Isaac startles and reaches towards his axes, but Suzette scoops the creature into her arms, cooing at it. “This is Ribbit!” She holds the amphibian under its armpits, presenting it to them like a sacred treasure, as it looks at them with glassy black eyes. “Home sweet home,” Suzette says, gesturing towards the fire. She quickly piles some tinder and sets it alight. Drayce inches closer to the flame, bits of steam coming off his perpetually damp blue skin. Ribbit’s tongue darts out, collecting the mosquitoes that are starting to appear._
> 
> _She offers Isaac some wine from a skein she has slung around her waist. “It’ll help with the venom, but you’ll need a good night’s sleep to recover totally.”_
> 
> _“Thanks.” He takes the skein, gulping the wine. “Wish we had some way to thank you, but we’ve had a string of bad luck recently.”_
> 
> _“That’s one way of putting it,” mutters the paladin darkly._
> 
> _“Are you a bandit?” Quinfaren asks, a thought suddenly occurring to him._
> 
> _“No,” says Suzette. “I just live out in the woods. Minding my own business.”_

“Okay,” says Gumshoe. “You’ll have to make a Deception roll for that one.”

“What??” Larry glares at her. “Nick, tell her she can’t just be a bandit and rob us blind!”

“Don’t look at me, I have no idea what’s going on!” He laughs.

“Well,” Edgeworth smiles cheekily at her friend, “what else is new?”

Phoenix just grins like an idiot in response, but happy is a good look on him. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t see me passing notes with Gumshoe, though,” she says.

“I noticed!” Larry interjects, “I thought you had legitimate questions about the game! Not that you were trying to screw us!”

Maya wrinkles her nose. “Not trying to screw anyone, thanks.”

“Speaking of legitimate questions.. Are we sleeping now? Should I prepare my spells?” Edgeworth is looking through the books, the papers he has scattered around, eventually finding the one he’s looking for in Phoenix’s hands. “Oh, sorry, you’re using that.”

“I was just reading over how Divine Sense works, sorry. If you’re choosing spells I can help though.” They negotiate sharing the book, eventually balancing it on each other’s legs. It would be cute as hell, except Phoenix seems to be doing everything in his power to give Edgeworth maximum personal space, cramming himself against the arm of the futon. _That just won’t do,_ Maya thinks to herself, _you’re making my job as wingwoman very hard, Nick._

“Take Tasha’s Hideous Laughter, it worked so well last time.”

“That can’t be the standard of things working well. I almost died...again.”

“Aw relax, I healed you. I always do.”

“I’m memorizing Color Spray, I’ve never used it.”

“Seriously? Why? Do Sleep instead, it’s better! I have no idea how you talked me into letting you keep that.”

“Letting me? It’s my character!”

Phoenix sets down his glass. “Don’t make me come over there.”

“We’re practically sharing a seat.”

“Why Color Spray?”

“It’s magical rainbows, what’s not to like?” Edgeworth carefully maneuvers the book over to Phoenix’s lap. “Be a bit more open minded.”

She tries to keep a neutral expression as a bright red flush creeps up Phoenix’s neck. “I’m **plenty** open minded,” he whines.

> _Quinfaren takes the first watch, since he needs only a few hours meditation to feel rested. He looks down at the unfinished letter he stuffed in his bag weeks ago. Maybe now is a good time to work on it._
> 
> _“Dearest, your eyes glisten like ocean tides. I wonder what your lips would taste like.” He reads over what he’s written a few times and then shoves the letter back. It’s no good, he’s terrible at this. He spends the rest of the watch trying to remember snippets of romantic poetry he’s read and trying to rephrase the sentiments in his mind in a way that was less cliche, more inspired. When his watch ends, it’s a welcome relief from that._
> 
> _Suzette takes over for him, fixing herself a cup of tea and enjoying the stillness of her tiny camp. Sly Isaac relieves her, polishing his axes. Then Sir Drayce._

“A one?” Gumshoe grins at Phoenix. “Uhh....shoot. Though you guys would make it through the night without incident.”

“Luck is definitely not on my side tonight.” He sighs quietly.

“Hey, don’t worry.” Gumshoe rolls a handful of dice. “You guys always seems to find a way out of your own stupid choices.”

“That’s way too many dice to install confidence though,” says Larry. 

“Shut it, pal. Or else I’m putting you at the bottom of initiative.”

> _Drayce awakes to the feeling of ropes binding his wrists. He wonders how on earth he managed to not only fall asleep on her watch, but sleep through being bound. He feels the willowy form of Quinfaren next to him._
> 
> _“Are you okay? How--”_
> 
> _“Sleep spell,” he offers through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry, I should have saved my circle of protection.”_
> 
> _“It’s not your fault.” Suzette whispers. She’s tied up too, her wrists staked to a stone pillar in front of them. “It’s mine.” In a bamboo cage beside her, Ribbit croaks mournfully._
> 
> _“Where’s Isaac?”_
> 
> _The tiefling had managed to slip his bonds, unknown to the others. Carefully, he sneaks past the treeline to where a small group of people is gathering by a stone ziggurat. While he patrols the group, Suzette reveals her secret, the one she tried so hard to keep in hopes of trying to live as normal a life as possible…_
> 
> _\---_
> 
> _Long ago when the moon was new and the stars were dim, a lord of devils roamed this plane. He had been exiled from the Nine Hells long ago, as his need for loyalty bordered on obsession. The devil required ever more daunting feats for his minions of our material world to prove themselves to him, and offered power beyond imagination in return. But he lived a miserable existence it was said, as he was never able to fully trust anyone. In time, his paranoia proved correct as he was sealed away by a powerful warrior under the castle in the capital, far down in the magical labyrinth beneath the dungeons._
> 
> _But Loronar, the most power-hungry of the devil’s many disciples, wasn’t about to let his chance at glory slip away. As the warrior was crowned king of all the realm, Loronar waited. He traveled the world finding children born under the new moon when the pink demon star was high in the east. Most of the children he found he was able to curse, so they grew sickly and tired, easy prey for his cultists to take from their parents, offering false hopes of healing. Their true fate was as sacrifice to the devil lord. A payment of 100 souls would release him from his bonds._
> 
> _\---_
> 
> _“Some of us,” says Suzette, “got better though. He didn’t exactly have a plan for that. I can’t say what happened to the others, but I was inducted into the cult. I really believed for a long time that I had a special job to do and did a lot of horrible things. But I woke up eventually. When I was old enough I realized I could choose my own destiny.”_
> 
> _Sir Drayce is about to offer her some kind of encouragement, or sympathy at the very least, when a scream rings out across the clearing. Sly Isaac stumbles back, his daggers bloody. “I killed a guy!” he says proudly._
> 
> _“Isaac…” growls Sir Drayce._
> 
> _“Well, a bad guy. Cultist. I realized a little too late that he wasn’t Loronar though.” He hurriedly unties the others, and smashes Ribbit’s cage a bit too aggressively with the back end of one of his axes. “This way!” He grabs Quinfaren and Drayce by the elbows and drags them into a tunnel partially covered by overgrown vines, Suzette and her frog trailing along behind._
> 
> _The tunnel is quite dark, but Sir Drayce is able to illuminate his sword so they don’t trip over the slick moss covering the ground. Sly Isaac stops suddenly, hearing voices up ahead._
> 
> _“Hehhehe. So many shinies.”_
> 
> _“Just count Zrut. Don’t take yet.”_
> 
> _“What this one? Can make a magic?”_
> 
> Goblins _, Isaac mouths back towards the group._
> 
> _Sir Drayce nods. “We will stay no longer than necessary then.” But then he hears:_
> 
> _“Derd, boss! Who is Red Horror? His book in here.”_
> 
> _Sir Drayce’s eyes go wide. “We need to destroy that book.”_
> 
> _“What?” Sly Isaac turns around. “Why?”_
> 
> _“You know why, Isaac! Think about it.”_
> 
> _He remembers then. He has seen Drayce before._
> 
> _“You….were on..the Red Horror? You were a damn pirate?”_
> 
> _“I was….paying off a debt.” Drayce sighs wearily. “Let us just say that Suzette is not the only one with a checkered past.”_
> 
> _“I can’t believe it! After all the shit you’ve given me about my questionable morality.”_
> 
> _“Isaac! Keep your voice down.”_
> 
> _The goblin voices have gone quiet. Then a chanting before a ball of fire explodes near Sir Drayce. Quinfaren slams him against the wall of the tunnel, the flames singeing his robes. “Quinfaren!” he cries. “Stop that, I can handle a bit of heat perfectly well. Get behind me, everyone.” He casts a spell that coats his armor in glowing periwinkle energy and charges towards the attackers._

“Quinfaren, you’re next.”

“Yes, I’m using Magic Missile.” Edgeworth scoots to his feet and negotiates around the coffee table to get out. “Sorry, I need to use the restroom. Will you roll for me Wright?”

“I’m gonna say he does one missile for each goblin,” Phoenix says, letting the dice clatter to the table. “4, 2, 1. Not bad at all.”

“Psst.” She shoves a neatly folded note into his hand this time, as Larry talks about hacking one of the goblin’s arms off with his axes. Phoenix reads it.

“Make a move? What? What move? I did Shield of Faith this turn, just so they have basically no chance of hitting me..”

“No,” she hisses, scooting close to whisper in his ear. “Miles. Just put an arm around him or something.”

“Okay, one down!” Gumshoe turns to her. “Maya?”

“Shoot him with arrows. The closest one.” She misses. The note appears next to her.

_What?!_

Drayce does his thing with the sword. Another goblin down. She writes back.

_You’re into him, obviously. He’s into you. Probably. Like 90% sure._

Edgeworth returns, just in time for the goblins to resume their attack. 

> _Fortunately the goblins can’t lay a finger on Drayce, their daggers useless against the plate armor protecting him. As they furiously try to disarm the knight, the goblin mage readies another spell. But Ribbit, seizing his chance, lunges forward and wraps a sticky pink tongue around the goblin, pulling the thrashing little thing into his throat and scampering off to his master. Quinfaren closes his eyes in concentration, and summons a purple cloud above them. The goblins assaulting Sir Drayce wobble and eventually fall to the ground._

“Sleep!” Phoenix cries out happily. “You actually took my advice!”

“Oh, please, I usually do, Mr. Wright.” He catches himself. “Phoenix, sorry. In fact, I usually get the minestrone and turkey at the cafeteria now. It's..easily the least terrible thing. Most edible. Something like that.”

Edgeworth is flopped back on the sofa, his head centimeters from Phoenix’s shoulder. Phoenix fidgets a bit and she thinks he might actually take her advice for a moment, but he just crosses and uncrosses his arms. _Fucking unbelievable._

> _As the flames devour the ledger of the Red Horror, Sir Drayce remains stoic, his eyes fixed on the holy symbol in his hands. He looks up as Quinfaren joins him._
> 
> _“Ah, Lord Inkstone.” He looks over the wizards burnt clothing. “Are you feeling all right? Do you need healing?”_
> 
> _He ignores the question. “What debt did you owe?”_
> 
> _Drayce deflates, looking suddenly very small. “The Red Horror’s crew raided my village. They held my brother for ransom. I offered to work on their crew until the debt was paid.”_
> 
> _“That doesn’t sound like a debt, that sounds like extortion.”_
> 
> _He shrugs. “A crime is a crime. No matter the circumstance. Once the goddess of justice called me to serve her, I knew that my debt was paid. Or at least I now owed a different debt.”_

Gumshoe stifles a yawn and checks his watch.

“Wow, we’ve been playing for hours.”

“Hey, can you turn on the news real quick?” Phoenix asks. “They have the new interim Chief of Police on apparently.”

Gumshoe’s ancient television switches on and the image of a heavyset balding man materializes through the static. The new Chief of Police seems good natured enough, until he starts talking about the great evil that the Prosecutor’s office has wrought putting away innocent people and misleading everyone, in particular _the wonderful hard-working law enforcement officers of Los Angeles, most of whom are just average people trying to do the right thing._

She has to stop herself rolling her eyes, as if the police department wasn’t just as complicit when the damn Chief of Police was sitting in jail at this very moment. But she catches a glimpse of Edgeworth out of the corner of her eye. He looks like he’s in physical pain, listening to this blowhard rail on about how bad prosecutors are. 

“Boring!” she shouts, grabbing the remote. “It’s almost 1, they usually have Steel Samurai reruns on around this time. How about it Miles?”

He doesn’t look up. “I’m afraid I must be going.” he answers flatly.

"Aww Edgey, you aren't going to stand around awkwardly in the kitchen with us like usual?" Larry is teasing, but anyone with half a brain can tell it isn’t the time for it.

"No," he says quietly. "Sorry." He collects his things and heads toward the door. 

"Wait!" Phoenix calls after him. “I'll walk you to the lobby. Or to your car, even. You usually park pretty far away.”

Maya waits for him to leave, and then her mind is working overtime, trying to decide if Nick needs her help. _With what, even?_ Maybe he usually does this. Nick is protective of his friends (which she supposes Edgeworth counts as). And Gumshoe doesn't live in an especially good neighborhood. Eventually her curiosity gets the best of her, and she follows them down the hall.

Phoenix strides confidently down the hallway outside the apartment and jabs the down elevator button. 

Edgeworth hesitates. "Umm....I usually...." He gestures to the stairwell.

"Oh, hah, right, yeah.” She watches him facepalm in a not very subtle way. “Sorry, I’m an idiot, I guess.”

She hides herself along a column in the corner, just barely able to see Edgeworth’s face and Phoenix's back. "I'm actually fairly close, just on the corner," Edgeworth fiddles with his keys in his hands. "You don't need to....escort me if you don't want to."

"No, all good, I just actually...wanted to ask you something."

Her phone buzzes, echoing in the small hallway. Fuck! She freezes, hoping she's as well hidden as she thinks she is. Real life stealth check she thinks, deliriously trying to hold back laughter at the thought. 

The two men briefly check their respective devices, and she sees Edgeworth's eyes flit over in her direction for one terrifying moment. 

"Uh, anyway...." Phoenix absently peels paint off the dilapidated door to the stairs. "Just wanted to say that I had fun. Well, I always have fun. Doing the D&D stuff. With you. You're fun."

Edgeworth cracks a calculated smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Hah."

"Hah?"

"I have not once been called 'fun.' Not in earnest. I assume you're joking."

"Well, first time for everything. Anyway, we should get dinner sometime."

Edgeworth's smile falls, his face frozen, blank. "Sorry, what? Dinner?"

"Or drinks actually! Yeah, drinks, that's better. That's what people say."

Maya can practically feel the nervous energy rolling off of him, and actually has to concentrate to avoid feeling sick. _Empathy and mind reading was a bad choice._

"Who says that?"

"Like, uh. I don't know. Advice giving people. Who give advice. About dating. Dates. Drinks are better than dinner. That's what I......" Phoenix trails off, seemingly noticing the look of abject horror spreading across Edgeworth's face, "....heard."

"Date?" Edgeworth says, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, forget it. No worries. I misread things. Happens a lot."

"No!" Edgeworth's head snaps up, his expression suddenly intense. "It's... I mean...it's not that I....I am...I just don't understand why you would ask me..."

"Because I like you. And I'd like to get to know you more. Over dinner, or drinks, or even just lunch. I like it when we go to lunch," Phoenix says quietly. "But you don't like me like that, do you?"

"That line of questioning is irrelevant, Wright."

"What? It's more or less the only thing that's relevant."

"It's a bad idea. We shouldn't....that is you wouldn't" Edgeworth's eyes drop to the ground. "Have a good night."

"Wait....please..."

"Good bye," says Miles. "Good bye."

He starts to walk away, and she hears the stairwell door open and then shut. Phoenix just stands there for a long while before slinking back to Gumshoe's apartment. He doesn't even look in her direction. She feels the minutes drag past for a while, before heading down the stairs herself. The next train to the village doesn't leave for another 20 minutes, but she doesn't really want to explain that she heard the whole sorry thing. She feels somewhat responsible even, but…

_Damnit I meant like hold hands or something to see how he reacts don’t just jump on him with a dinner date, good god…_

She has a long time to think of what to say but eventually settles on a text that’s...supportive. And even technically true.

_"Sorry, I had to run back to the village. I had fun though. Thanks for inviting me. Sorry if I was acting too weird about Edgeworth."_

She sends it, wondering how long before he tells her what happens and she has to relive the secondhand embarrassment all over again.

_Last time I ever try to set anyone up, that’s for damn sure._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to add a quick warning that suicide is talked about and mentioned in this chapter, but only briefly. Also a warning that the events are a little bit non-canonical in terms of who knows what when and their reactions to said knowledge. Also, another small non-canonical thing, everyone has modern smart phones (though they should anyway I mean it takes place in 2017??) Thanks so so much for reading!

“Hey Edgeworth. It's me, Phoenix.”

No, no, no, no. Way too many things wrong with that.

“Hi Miles. I hope this is still an okay number to text you.”

Yikes.  _ If I’m going to be passive aggressive I may as well do it properly.  _ He deletes the message and tries again.

"I heard you weren't actually dead. That's awesome, wish you had told me."

He really wants to send that one. It's not even technically that rude. Sarcastic, maybe. _ But you can't prove I'm angry _ , he thinks darkly.  _ Very difficult to prove intent from a text. You should know that as a prosecutor. _

Delete.

"I miss you."

_ God no.  _ Delete.

He puts his phone away and pours himself a glass of water. The clouds outside promise spring showers, and the speckled sun coming through Gumshoe’s kitchen blinds casts faint shadows on the linoleum floor. His refrigerator is full of tacky plastic magnets, flamingos from Florida, cacti from Arizona, croissants from Paris. He searches for one from Germany, depicting….sausages maybe? Lederhosen? 

_ I don't even want to be here _ , he realizes.

The people seated at the table, his friends; they feel like strangers. He watches them talk and laugh with each other like they're in another dimension.

"Just delete his number," Larry says, walking over and pulling open the fridge. A lump of red rock from Arches National Park nearly hits him in the elbow. "Face it, Nick. He doesn't want to talk to you and he isn't going to. I couldn’t believe it either, though! I mean I’m happy he didn’t actually…” He trails off a moment.

_ Kill himself.  _ Phoenix finished in his head. He doesn’t want to revisit this, through it’s basically all he can think about.

_ Miles Edgeworth chooses death.  _ What else can you think from a note like that? He remembers the sleepless, nauseating hours - well days really - he spent after he heard. Crushing disbelieving waves of grief followed by a sort of morbid curiosity.  _ How did it do it? Jumped off a cliff into the ocean? That would explain the lack of a body. But no one saw? His car’s still parked at the office apparently. How did he get there?  _ But all that was short lived. Miles Edgeworth solved his own mystery by politely requesting a leave of absence from the prosecutor’s office some days later and leaving a set of contact details for an address 30 km outside of Berlin. 

“It’s just plain ridiculous, you know? He needs to get his head checked. Who does that? Why would you go so far as to try and fake your own death? Why couldn’t he have just rejected you cleanly like a normal human being?”

“Larry,” Phoenix says, rubbing his temples. “He’s obviously going through a lot right now. He’s had to relive some really horrible stuff recently. Give Miles a break.”  _ Also, this almost certainly has very little to do with me. _

_...right? _

“Can you tell me something, Nick?” Larry leans against the fridge door, carefully placing his shoulder between shells from Myrtle Beach and bagpipes from Scotland. “Why are you always sticking up for people who treat you like shit? And yes, I’m including myself. Don’t worry.”

He doesn’t have a good response for that. “I wasn't texting him,” he eventually says.

“Bullshit.” Phoenix finds himself yanked towards the table. “Come on, we’ve got lots to do. Face down the Bloodleaf Bortherhood’s leader, get rich and famous, give Maya crap for not being old enough to drink…”

Her head shoots up at this. “Beer tastes terrible anyway. I wish you guys would bring soda like proper gamers.”

“I will next time. Promise.” Phoenix says, sliding in next to her.

“Just like you promised you’d come visit me in Kurain?”

He winces and she instantly turns apologetic which is somehow even worse.

“Sorry! I know you...have been kinda down in the dumps…”

“Don’t worry about me. All the stuff, you know, it was a while ago, I’m basically over it.”

“You are a terrible liar.”

“Let’s just play.” Phoenix says, exasperated, sick of all the unwanted concern.

> _ Sly Isaac ascends the steps to Loronar's estate. The entrance is incredible, carved serpents and demons crawling along the stone archway, their eyes small gems that glow in the torchlight. Isaac is a bit nervous, but really this is the only reasonable course of action. It wouldn’t be safe to bring Suzette inside, she would likely be recognized instantly. They’ve learned a lot about Loronar from her, how he was a dragonborn exiled from his clan, but several other higher-ups in the cult were additional outcasts so overall the organization had a rather Draconic culture to it. _

“Cult culture,” says Larry, and Phoenix watches Gumshow and Maya laugh like it’s actually funny.

> _ Tonight Loronar was hosting a dinner party for potential new initiates. _
> 
> _ "Let's get our story straight," says Sly Isaac to Drayce, as they arrive at the grand front entrance. " I’m some fancy pants noble, and you’re my knight in service.” _
> 
> _ Drayce stops. It doesn’t quite sit right with him, this fiction. “What’s your name, my Lord? Quinfaren Inkstone?” _
> 
> _ “Well, sure. Why not? We have all his stuff. When you leave in the dead of night without explanation, I think anyone can pretend to be you. At least that’s how it would be, out on the open seas, right?” _
> 
> _ “Sure,” sighs Sir Drayce. “Let’s go.” _
> 
> _ Loronar sits on his throne in magnificent regalia, his black scales shining with an iridescent sheen. Even his servants wear the finest clothing. He looks up from his wine glass to Sly Isaac and Drayce, and smiles. “Welcome, good sirs,” he says in excellent Draconic. Sly Isaac responds clumsily, knowing a bit of the language, but struggling severely with the accent.  _
> 
> _ Loronar, however, seems amused with his attempts, and chuckles lightly waving towards a servant for more wine. _
> 
> _ “Common is fine, dear friend,” he tells them. “But you may wish to speak only when spoken to when you meet the mistress.” _
> 
> _ Sir Drayce frowns. “Who is the mistress?” _
> 
> _ The question earns him a swift jab in the ribs by Isaac. _
> 
> _ “Do excuse my humble servant,” he says, placing a careful emphasis on the last words. “Manners are in short supply in the water genasi as I’m sure you are aware.”  _
> 
> _ “Well then,” Loronar whispers conspiratorially. “You may wish to have him wait outside the mistress’s chambers. She is a fire genasi. I hear the two elements don’t play well together.” _
> 
> _ “Excellent point, my lord,” Drayce says, straightening his cloak. “I certainly don’t want to infringe on whatever private business you have here. I’m merely...keeping watch.”  _
> 
> _ “Oh, like a guard dog. How charming. Perhaps, he can wait in the stables.” Loronar inclines his scaly face slightly. “Or the fish pond in the courtyard if that’s more...comfortable for one of his type.” _
> 
> _ “Certainly my lord,” Drayce bows his head towards Loronar, displaying only the barest hint of civility towards him. “I’ll be communing with the wonders of the deep out there then.” _
> 
> _ Loronar places a hand on his shoulder as he turns away. “I will have one of my servants escort you.” _
> 
> _ Drayce nods and then turns to look at the man approaching them. He’s a green dragonborn, dressed more simply by far than any of the other guests.  _
> 
> _ “Please, meet Harkins. He’s a friend of mine.” Harkins’ eyes are empty, almost dead-looking, and his face is scarred badly, his snout half-missing. _
> 
> _ “Umm, I’ll see you later then,” Isaac says. It is around this time he realizes they don’t have much of a plan. He only hopes he is able to blend in well enough that Sir Drayce is able to communicate the information about the mysterious mistress back to Suzette and determine who exactly she is. Sly Isaac wanders around the meeting hall, trying to get a sense for the patrons attending. They all seem remarkably bland. They’re the sort of low government officials or small time merchants he finds utterly forgettable. He wonders what on earth would possess these people to join a cult. _
> 
> _ Meanwhile Drayce follows the dragonborn out to the courtyard. It’s much quieter here. Nearly silent compared to the hubbub of the dining hall. He examines his escort carefully. Though he seems docile, he is deadly silent and still and there’s almost certainly something very wrong with him. _

“So what else is Drayce doing then?”

_ God, tonight is just dragging on.  _ He feels a bit guilty for thinking it but it’s true. It certainly isn’t Gumshoe’s fault. He would normally love a chance to pretend to be a charming knight to a bunch of fancy party-goers and just be extremely goofy for a few hours. But today it was a bit like he needed a different distraction. Or maybe just a less Miles-associated one.

“Umm, I guess I’ll try and try and give Harkins the slip. Are there trees in the courtyard?”

“Yep.”

“I climb a tree. Does he see me?”

“Nope.”

“Uhh….I wait for him to leave.”

“He’s not leaving.”

_ Gah…...what the hell am I supposed to do, Gumshoe? _

“Okay, I guess I just wait then. Up in the tree.”

“Okay, Suzette, what are you up to then?”

He surreptitiously pulls out his phone under the table. He’d gotten a notification some time ago, but hadn’t had the chance to check. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.  _ Not Miles.  _ Obviously. Why would it be? Not even a message. Wait actually, yes, a message.

_ You have a new message waiting on Tinder! _

That had been Maya’s idea of help last week. “Plenty of fish in the sea, and all that!” she’d said, waffling between using a profile picture of him pretending to cower under a life-sized cardboard Steel Samurai’s sword and one of him leaning on his bike, staring into the distance.

“I’m not upset about him turning me down, I’m upset that...he… Look, he’s a grown adult, he can make his own choices. I’m not upset!”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m not though. I’m just sad. I feel bad about the situation. There’s a difference.”

She squinted at him. “Maybe we should just use that picture from when we announced the office was changing names. Everyone loves a guy in a suit.” Maya looked up and notices his pouting. “Come on, you’ve had an account for months. It’s not like I’m even making you sign up.”

“Yeah, because you made me sign up a few months ago. Why do you care so much? This isn’t about--”

She sighed. “Believe me, I have my reasons. You being involved with someone will just make my life easier. But besides that, I care because I care about you! Since when is that bad?”

He wonders now how his friends can understand him so well, and yet not at all. He glances down at the message he's recieved

> **Brian:** Lawyer, huh? I’m in the market for a sugar daddy, so this might just work.

He groans inwardly. He’s gotten some variants of this type of attention before but usually not as a.....pickup line? If you could call it that. He’s about to close the app and move on with his life when he sees a message from several months back that he must have missed.

> **Hazel:** You work in my building. Having seen you in real life, you aren’t as cute as you think you are. 

He can’t decide what prompts him to respond. Maybe it’s that he can’t place her in the list of people in his office building. He never could resist a puzzle.

> **Phoenix:** How cute do I think I am?

Before he can really consider if this was a good response, she’s typing back.

> **Hazel:** Wow. Is two months your normal turnaround time to respond? I’ll make reservations at the Gatewater. Heard their waterfront tables have a two month waitlist. It’ll be perf.
> 
> **Phoenix:** Hah, I think I’ll pass, Gatewater is a bit too pricey for someone who doesn’t think I’m cute.
> 
> **Hazel:** You’re no fun. What if I pay?
> 
> **Phoenix:** You don’t work in my building.
> 
> **Hazel:** Says who?
> 
> **Phoenix:** I work across from the Gatewater. It’s basically the same view. No point in getting waterfront tables.
> 
> **Hazel:** LOL no shit?

The phone is snatched from his fingers, Maya grinning at him. “Well, then Nick?”

“Huh?”

“Suzette just joined you in the tree. She thinks she found a way to sneak into the ritual chamber through the sewers. Harkins is mind controlled but the courtyard is also covered in fog now so he can’t tell what’s going on.” He narrows his eyes. “Pay attention, pal.”

> _ Drayce and Suzette move along the outer wall of the courtyard. They carefully feel their way along the stones, Suzette moving slowly and silently and Sir Drayce, less so. Eventually they come to what she’s looking for: a carved image of a winged hell-hound. She works her fingers along the edge of its head until she finds what she’s looking for. A small lever, that she can just barely work underneath her nails. But there’s something else, a longer thinner piece of metal. She traces the trip wire along cracks and crags in the stone until she finds it. Tiny, barely visible indentations in the wall, just small enough for an arrow to fit through. She can barely see the bolts, sleeping in their slots.  _
> 
> _ “I’m going to try and disarm it,” she whispers softly. With the tip of her dagger, she manages to disconnect the trip wire. “Let’s hope the door still works.” She carefully pulls the hidden lever, and a small opening appears as stones smoothly overlap each other. Beyond this hole in the wall is a dark tunnel. _

“Uh, is anyone coming to get me?”

“No, Larry. Honestly, I think maybe you should sit this one out.” Phoenix tells him, watching Maya scroll through his conversation with Hazel. Now he’ll need to explain himself to her too. 

“Man, Nick, what’s with you tonight? You’re being a real asshole.”

“Oh, I’m the asshole?” Phoenix snaps. “Really? After everything I’ve done for you?”

He hadn’t meant to say that, and he realizes it instantly. He’s vaguely aware of Maya slipping him his phone back, a sort of peace offering he supposes. “Sorry,” he says, shaking his head, trying to clear it. He feels that distance still, the space between normal, human interaction and...whatever this is. “Sorry,” he says again. “Sorry, Larry. I didn’t mean that. You know I love you, man.”

A long moment passes. Gumshoe eventually mutters that he didn’t have anything else prepared. “Honestly, I didn’t expect you to disarm that trap. Isn’t Larry the rogue?”

“Well, yeah, that’s why I’m pretending to be a totally awesome and highly desirable new recruit to the cult.”

Maya motions him towards the couch, “Sorry. I didn’t realize you weren’t texting you-know-who.”

“Maya, we haven’t spoken at all, and we probably never will again. I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m so obsessed with this guy.”

She gives him a skeptical look. “Well, anyway she messaged you back, so..”

He looks.

> **Hazel:** Okay so dinner at your office I guess since the view is the same.
> 
> **Hazel:** or you gonna ignore me for another 2 months?

“I’ll run OpSec on her.”

“Maya, if you’re talking about generally stalking her online profiles and such...that’s not OpSec. That’s something else...I don’t know what. And it’s also just a bit creepy, I mean you’re in a police officer’s house.” He huffs quietly. She’s not paying attention. He eventually thinks of a suitable response.

> **Phoenix:** You are extremely forward.
> 
> **Hazel:** Fine. I’ll let you buy me a drink first if it puts you more at ease.
> 
> **Phoenix:** Ok. We’ll do drinks. Where do you really work? 
> 
> **Hazel:** You don’t want to go right now? 
> 
> **Phoenix:** It’s like 3pm?
> 
> **Hazel:** Right, so we’ll have dinner after, thought I explained this.

“This her?” Maya thrusts her own phone in front of his face. On the screen is a serious-looking woman, her auburn hair in a ponytail, her petite frame dressed in a smart blazer. Other than the conservative attire, and her expression, she’s identical to Hazel’s profile pictures.

“Wait...” An unpleasant thought crosses his mind. “She’s not a lawyer, is she?”

"CPA." Maya says, looking concerned. "This is why I worry about you, though. I don’t think you should never consider dating another lawyer because of one bad experience..."

“Let’s not go there.” He tries and fails to keep the anger out of his voice. “Well, I guess I’m going to go get drinks with her then. She honestly seems a bit nuts." He pulls on his jacket. "If I don't text you in a few hours she's probably murdered me.” 

"Hah."

"Seriously. I have a history of attracting redheads with a murderous streak."

“I never know if you _ are _ serious.” She calls after him as he leaves. “When are you coming to visit me at the village?

"Very soon, promise."

“You and your promises,” he hears her mutter as the door shuts behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thanks so much for reading, I'm enjoying writing this so much :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Larry Butz is a Very Good Friend, and I am very sorry for not giving Maya a situation where she has space to deal with her feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Abusive relationships and a little more blood and gore than usual.

Maya walks briskly from her apartment around the corner onto the street, the bright blue sky already blasting heat from above. She’s groaning internally at the thought of Gumshoe’s non-air conditioned kitchen. But that’s not what makes her hesitate as she arrives in front of his door. It’s really just  _ weird  _ to turn up here on a weekend like normal. As if everything with her aunt and Dr. Grey hadn’t happened. Well, wouldn’t be the first time she had to just carry on and pretend like everything was fine.

It comes back to her a bit, like a dream. The sight of her sister, slumped against the wall, blood pooling around her. Movement, sirens, light. Then a jail cell. The same jail cell as this time. She'd remembered the half-peeled off technicolor sticker of a cartoon panda by the sink and toilet, a mystery in a void of institutional beige. And then, like before, she received her things back and she went home. Not guilty. Grand.

All’s well that ends well, but she has to wonder why she keeps getting caught up in these horrible situations. Especially this one. She remembered visits with Aunt Morgan when she was a kid. Had she been secretly seething, plotting revenge on their family when she watched her and Mia as children? While they were running outside, making mud pies, watching clouds on the hillside? She knew now that she had to put aside those memories.

Yes, she was free now, but the truth was its own kind of prison. It was harder than she had imagined to discover her own family was capable of such things.  _ But, then again, that’s why I’m here, back in LA  _ she thinks. Family is overrated if you happen to have a bad one.

Phoenix answers the door, which Maya is grateful for. She could really use a hug right now. Larry was out of the question, and Gumshoe was nice enough, but his coat smelled like something must have died in it at one point.

"Good." He says as he releases his hold. "Sorry about... well, you know."

"Why are you sorry? You came in and fixed everything." She lowers her eyes. "Like always."

He ignores that. "Did you find a place to stay yet? You're always welcome on the couch at my place." He pauses a moment. "You look beat."

She shakes her head in disagreement. "Nope! I'm actually getting a second wind coming here. It's so good to have a distraction." He studies her carefully, chin in hand, glancing not-so-sneakily into his other hand.

She rolls her eyes. "Nick, why are you so obvious about using that thing?”

"Sorry," he says, shifting the magatama to his front pocket and grinning at her. "I'm still getting used to having magic powers."

"It's not magic! It's an ancient artifact so be careful."

“Magic ancient artifact? Like a real one? Let me see!” Larry comes over, throwing an arm around both of them. Maya wiggles away.

"So how's Hazel?" she asks, trying to change the subject away from her own problems. She hadn't actually met Hazel yet, being detained and all.

"Nope!" says Larry, shaking his head at her. "We don't talk about that one here. She’s not coming today, right Nick?”

He glares at Larry. “Yeah...she is. Why do you guys hate her so much?”

“Because she absolutely ruins the game for everyone else.”

“I talked to her about last time.”

Larry looks at Phoenix for a long time before sighing. “Gumshoe, what do you think?”

He looks between the two of them. “It’s fine,” he slowly answers, “I mean, I think the second character she made is more balanced.”

Maya has about a billion questions about this, but they’re soon answered when Hazel arrives.

“Hiiiii!” she calls out shrilly, planting an open mouthed kiss on Phoenix, leaving smears of lipstick. He politely wipes at them with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, but before he can ever greet her, she’s busy talking at Gumshoe, apologizing profusely for “last time” and then fluttering her eyes at Larry...who seems to be  _ avoiding _ her.  _ Jeez, she must be terrible if even Larry is avoiding her. _

Finally her gaze falls on Maya. In an instant, her demeanor changes.

“Who’s this, Phoenix?” she asks, her voice chilly.

“Uh, Hazel, meet my friend Maya. Remember, I was telling you about -”

“You’re just a kid.” Her smile is predatory.

“I’m nineteen,” Maya answers stiffly.  _ Okay, so she’s just jealous, nothing too weird. Annoying, sure.  _ She glances over at Phoenix, who clearly wants to say something, but Gumshoe interrupts their little moment.

“Hazel, I can’t believe you killed the Mistress. I spent so much time preparing her and she was dead in like 2 rounds. Are you sure you’ve never played before?”

She reverts back to her original facade. “Oh, no of course not. I’ve just played plenty of games before. I read a lot about this one online. It’s all the same really.” Her attention turns back to Maya as she settles in at the table. “Can I see your character?”

She turns over Suzette to Hazel who scans the paper, almost bored looking. “Wow, rangers. Always surprising how underpowered they are. Aww, you have a pet frog. Cute. Shittier version of a Find Familiar but still…”

“I like Ribbit.”

“Hazel, we talked about this. Let people play the way they want.” Phoenix appears next to her, Mountain Dew in hand.

She thanks him, while Hazel makes a sympathetic face at him. “Sorry, sweetie, I just get so excited. Is that okay? Sharing my excitement with other people? Huh? Feenie?”

He startles a bit. “Don’t call me that.” A bit of an edge has crept into his voice. “We talked about that too.”

> _ “It wouldn’t be an adventure, if one of us wasn’t captured,” Suzette says, as Sly Isaac and Sir Drayce work to free her. They’re in a barn, the smell of hay and grain sweet and musty in Suzette’s nose. _
> 
> _ “Well, we could do with a few less close calls.” They’ve managed to give her a synopsis as they untied her. The town they stopped in has been run by cultists for some time, and unluckily for Suzette, the mayor managed to arrest her for crimes against the crown. She was being held in the barn and probably would be executed at sunrise. But her friends had arrived to sneak her out. Once they were out on the road again, they could regroup and try to make sense of a scroll they’d found which was apparently used to imprison the devil previously. _
> 
> _ The halfling next to them is carefully going over every inch of the room. Suzette tries to introduce herself, but the woman has little time for pleasantries. She only says that her name is Zad. It’s clear from her clothing that she belongs to some kind of holy order, but it’s one Suzette isn’t familiar with. _
> 
> _ “We would be faster if we had horses,” Zad says. _
> 
> _ Sir Drayce chews his lip thoughtfully. “I agree, but it’s safer if we just leave. We’d be recognized by merchants in town.” _
> 
> _She glares at him. “I wasn’t planning on going to a merchant. This_ **is** _a farm after all. There’s certainly at least a horse to pull a plow.”_
> 
> _ “We can’t just steal this man’s livestock!” _
> 
> _ “Stop me then,” she says, somehow managing to look down her nose at the paladin, despite her height. When he doesn’t move, she strolls out of the barn. “Didn’t think so.” _
> 
> _ She easily finds a horse, tied to the fence. She sighs heavily. “Well only one won’t do much good.” She unties and mounts the animal. “Which way was the horse merchant, Drayce?” _
> 
> _ He opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I don’t think…” _

“Nevermind,” Hazel says. “I rolled a 19. To remember where.” She looks at Gumshoe expectantly.

Gumshoe looks as miserable as she feels. He’s always been a bit of a pushover, especially when it came to their antics, and she sees now how that can backfire,  _ a lot.  _

“It’s just past the fountain in the town square, pal,” he eventually answers meekly.

> _ As they enter the stables, Drayce still muttering saltily about the fact that they’re now committing an actual crime against the crown, Suzette notices Ribbit being drawn towards….well something odd. She can’t quite say what it is. A pile of slime? Sludge? She scoops the squirming amphibian up and peers at it. _
> 
> _ Zad appears next to her. “Gross. Looks like something from the plane of Limbo. Looks like something in the stables isn’t supposed to be here.” _
> 
> _ “What? What’s the plane of Limbo?” _
> 
> _ Zad rolls her eyes. “Read a book sometime.” She looks into the back of the stable. It’s too dark to see, so she half drags Sly Isaac over. “Look with your weird demonic eyes and tell me if you see anything.” He doesn’t, but he does knock over a broom and bucket in the stable, causing an ungodly clatter. As Zad swears at Isaac, Suzette follows the trail of goop around the side of the stable to find...the merchant, wearing a smile that’s ever so slightly unhinged. And before her eyes, he starts to change into something else, with slimy skin and long clawed fingers… _

“Unbelievable!” Hazel pouts at Gumshoe. “I rolled really high for Perception before we knocked over the stuff. Why didn’t I see him first.”

“Well, he wasn’t there yet.”

“You can’t win with dirty tricks, Dick. Tricky Dick. Hah.”

“Just take your turn, Hazel.” Larry’s eyes are glazed over. In different circumstances, it might have been funny to see his thirst for attention knocked back a bit, but Hazel was being just a bit insufferable.

Hazel aims her look of disappointment at Phoenix. “I think your friends are the problem Phoenix. They probably just can’t handle  _ women  _ in their gaming.”

“I’m right here?” says Maya.  _ Okay, maybe not just a bit insufferable. _

“I mean, women who kick ass,” she clarifies.

“Sorry, what-” Phoenix tries to cut in.

“I mean kick ass  _ at the game.”  _ Hazel laughs loudly. “Sorry, I always do this. Say the wrong thing. Good thing I’m not a lawyer, right, Feen- oops sorry, Phoenix.” She flashes him a dazzling smile. “Honestly, it’s just a cute nickname, I don’t see the big idea -”

“Initiative,” says Gumshoe. “What did everyone roll?”

> _ Sly Isaac runs out, flinging an axe towards the beast. It lands squarely in it’s slimy flank, but the creature doesn’t seem phased. He scrambles behind some barrels and readies another shot. Suzette springs backward, and gathers her strength, pulling back her bowstring and infusing it with biting acid. Her arrow flies into the creature’s gut and holes burn into its flesh. It howls in rage, but the burnt bits of skin heal before her eyes, and her arrow clatters uselessly to the ground. She barely has time to hear Zad scolding her for not knowing the beast can resist acid before casts a spell and ascends into the sky. Suddenly, it’s on top of her, biting at her neck and flailing arms from above. There’s blood in her mouth, dripping down her face. _

“It can’t do that! It can’t cast Fly and then attack her,” Hazel says.

“It’s a bonus attack. Normally it can use its claws, also,” Gumshoe explains.

Hazel rolls her eyes. “I just hate it when people can’t play fair and have to cheat to win.”

“It’s not about winning!” Larry explodes at her. “It’s not that kind of game!”

“Maybe for you it isn’t!”

> _ Zad launches into the melee throwing a handful of gravel at the slaad. As it hits its target, the creature looks suddenly confused, giving her enough time to leap up and pummel it with her fists. It cries out in surprise as blows rain on its face. Drayce also runs up next to her, and uses some of his magic to staunch the bleeding on her arms and face. “What are you doing? Smite this guy!” snarls the halfling, but Drayce is preoccupied with helping her. Sly Isaac uses the distraction to launch crossbow bolts at the slaad, but they bounce off its rubbery skin. “Two can play at that game,” cries Suzette. She waves her hands and the skin on her arms becomes rough, barklike. She readies another shot in her bow. The slaad is attacking Zad now, swooping down on her with its vicious teeth and terrible claws. She’s able to dodge most of its attacks, but eventually one hits her, tearing her clothes and leaving deep cuts across her back. She roars and _

“So what isn’t it immune to?”

“You don’t know,” says Gumshoe testily.

“I don’t believe this! I’m literally the only one who knew it was a Slaad! I should know what attacks actually hurt it.”

“It seems like regular physical damage hurts it okay -”

“Why is everyone ganging up on me?” She turns to Phoenix with tears in her eyes. “Phoenix?”

He looks queasy as she babbles to him about how unfair everything is. “Try poison,” he says eventually.

“You looked up the monster!” Larry says, voice laced with disappointment. “That’s metagaming! Which is super uncool, not to mention you’re always lecturing me about -”

“Larry-”

“The sex can’t be that good man-”

“Just let her roll!” Maya surprises herself with this outburst. But really, letting her have her way can’t be any worse than this.

> _ The halfling throws her head back and lets loose a stream of sharp smelling gas. It hits the slaad and it starts choking, clawing at its throat and eyes. It falls to the ground and stumbles a moment before looking up at the advancing form of Sir Drayce. The last thing it sees in life is the flash of his blade as he decapitates it in one smooth stroke. _

Hazel sighs mournfully. “Why didn’t you let me kill it, Feenie? It was nearly dead anyway.”

A sharp ring startles the group around the table. “Detective Gumshoe,” Gumshoe barks into his phone. “I’m in the middle of something important by the way so….oh, right. Yes, sorry, sir. Just a little bit wound up I guess. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He addresses them. “Sorry guys, there was a robbery nearby and they’re asking for a detective on the scene to investigate.” He gets up from the table, tidying up the gaming stuff while Phoenix peppers him with questions about the crime. Larry wanders off for more alcohol and eventually it’s just Maya and Hazel at the table.

Maya takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “You shouldn’t call him that if he doesn’t like it.”

Hazel turns towards her. “You don’t even know why he doesn’t like it.”

“I don’t. I don’t think it matters.”

“It’s because an ex used to call him that,” she says in a stage whisper, a smug look on her face. 

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Larry has reappeared fists clenched in anger. “Seriously.”

“I sure do. I made him tell me about the only girl he ever loved,” she sighs. “Well, I’ll be the second girl he’s ever loved but I won’t be second best. Anytime he hears ‘Feenie’ he’ll think of me and not her!”

“She accused him of murder.” says Larry. Maya isn’t used to seeing him so dead serious. “She lied to him, manipulated him-”

“Murder!” Hazel’s hands fly to her open mouth. “You mean...he has a criminal record?!”

“He was cleared of the charges! He was innocent!”

Hazel stands up at glares at Phoenix who had been blissfully unaware of their conversation.

“How could you do this? How could you lie to me?”

“What?” Phoenix sputters, “I didn’t-”

“MURDER? HOW COULD YOU?”

“I didn’t...kill anyone. I’m so sorry, Hazel. I knew this would come up eventually but...listen. I was really just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It happened in my office. I helped the police arrest the person who actually did it though.”

Confusion flashes through Hazel’s face. “You told me you met Dahlia in college. What office?”

“Oh,” says Phoenix, “right, that time.”

“YOU WERE ACUSED OF MURDER MORE THAN ONCE?” she screams. She snatches up her purse shaking visibly. “I can’t believe it, how stupid am I? I should have known something was off when your ‘super cool best friend who you miss so much’ was actually her,” she gestures ferociously at Maya, “and not just some hopeless frat boy like Larry and the rest of your friends.”

Gumshoe frowns deeply, offended.

“I don’t understand,” Phoenix mutters helplessly.

“We’re through!” shouts Hazel. “Done! Over!  _ Finito!  _ You got that?”

“Sure,” he says.

“I hope you get what you deserve!” She slams the door on the way out.

A long silence stretches over the studio apartment.

Eventually Gumshoe’s phone rings a second time and he explains that he’s on his way. “Traffic, you know!” He hangs up. “Uh sorry, guys, but I have to go.” He turns to Phoenix. “I can call for an escort to take you home, pal. Understandable if you’re a little rattled after all that.”

“No, no thanks.” Phoenix does look a bit shaken, but - “I’m fine,” he insists.

They make their way outside, the heat almost unbearable. Phoenix leans against a parking meter, looking dejected.

“I’m sorry,” Maya starts. “I didn’t know - about your ex. I probably was pushing too hard for you to jump into a relationship and stuff. Even with Edgeworth-”

“I know you had good intentions. It’s okay.” he says, not looking at her.

“Was she always this crazy jealous? Hazel, I mean.”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “I dunno. Not quite as bad as today.”

“All because I was the only other girl there! She does know you’re bi, right?”

“How exactly would knowing that have helped anything?”

“Good point. Anyway, I hope that Hazel stays the hell away from you. And Dahlia too while we’re at it.”

“She’s in jail,” he says, as if that explains everything.

She takes a deep breath, “You were accused of murder in college? That’s crazy-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says flatly, his jaw clenched.

They’re just standing there, sun beating down on them, and Maya’s suddenly frightened that this, today, means something has changed, shifted in their friendship.

“Do you want to just talk then?”

“Yes,” he says, finally looking at her, relieved. “Anything else.”

“How about the Steel Samurai?”

He groans, and she relaxes.  _ Nothing different after all. _

“Hear me out! There’s a cute little Steel Samurai pop-up cafe. The food is just ok, but the matcha lattes are amazing. It’s next to my apartment.”

“Fine,” he says, adjusting his backpack, “you’re paying though.”

“You pay me so technically-”

“I’ll pay. But you won’t be texting Pearly about ‘the cute date Mr. Nick took you on.’”

“Oh, way too late for that.”

“Will you never stop trolling me?”

“Probably not.”

He’s just barely smiling. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I just realized that I could have made this entire story about Phoenix and company while they were still in college and I could have just used Dahlia as a character instead of trying so hard and failing to make Hazel not like Dahlia, oops 🤡


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated so hard about editing this chapter out. It's very hard for me to think about Phoenix being so depressed, but on the plus side, its short!

“Ow!”

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to poke so hard. That is one ugly bruise though.”

Maya carefully repositions the ice pack on Phoenix’s temple. When she had arrived at the apartment, she’d made a big show about asking if he still remembered her. He hadn’t seemed amused by it. He’s a little less surly now that she convinced Gumshoe to track down an ice pack and some ibuprofen though. Not a lot though. She wishes he would take some time off, it can’t be healthy to just carry on like this when you’ve been attacked in your own office and suffered a head injury.

Phoenix seems to have his own way of coping with things though. She’s now used to seeing him in the office first thing in the morning when she gets there, and waving goodbye in the evenings. He’s partially taken over Mia’s desk with leftover takeout containers, and Charley is wilting a bit because Phoenix never opens the blinds anymore. He seems to be doing good work though, keeping busy. Once in a while she even sees him attempting to read her sister’s law books, before inevitably curling up on the sofa with a splitting headache a bit later.

“I can’t believe you pulled that off,” Gumshoe tells Phoenix, who is wincing at the sound of the neighbors apparently having a small EDM concert on the other side of his thin walls. “Can’t say I’m not grateful, though. Maggey’s a really good... I mean, not that I know her super well. But I’m glad you got her acquitted. Really. Well, it would have made the department look bad for sure if…”

“Ooohh looks like the Detective’s got a crush!” Larry says, saving Gumshoe the trouble and pounding on the wall nearest the ruckus for him.

“Maggey seems great,” Phoenix says, settling in with his collection of suitable d20s, “I’m glad I was able to help her out. Despite not knowing what the hell was going on.”

“Maybe she should join us,” Maya suggests. “We seem to all the in the ‘falsely accused of murder club.’”

“Heh,” Phoenix cracks a welcome grin at her. “Well, everyone except Detective Gumshoe.”

Maya just barely catches Gumshoe’s nervous glance around the room before he responds. “Ah hah! Right! Not yet anyway!”

Suspicious. She wishes that they hadn’t banned the use of Magatama at the table.

> _ Suzette the Bold is tired of the dark winding caves they’ve been wandering through for weeks. They aren’t lost, exactly, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling jumpy. “Have you heard much about the Underdark, Sir Drayce? I only hear horror stories. But things have been going smoothly so far.” _
> 
> _ “You forgot about the giant spiders already? Or does that sort of thing not phase you? I suppose they weren’t much of a challenge for us after all! Who knows what else we might run across, though?” _
> 
> _ She shivers a bit “I agree. It is dark as night down here, though the torches we have help. And your glowing magic stuff, of course. I don’t know...I just feel like something terrible is about to happen.” _
> 
> _ Sly Isaac isn’t phased much by their concerned whispering. He’s only concerned with sticking to the plan. He runs it through in his mind once more. Find the Temple of Dark Resolutions. There, they will find an altar on a dias. On the dias is the Orb of Whispers. Give it to that creepy old lady in exchange for some sort of info that should lead them to a man called Brother Pious. Brother Pious cures little Nella. Everyone lives happily ever after. _
> 
> _ It probably won't be that simple. But it's a good enough kind of plan. _
> 
> _ Sir Drayce is looking a bit worse for wear, red and black bruises smattered along his blue skin. He keeps close to Isaac but as they turn a corner he catches a whiff of something awful and gags. "I think we have something dead and rotten up ahead." He turns to Suzettte. “You’re probably right about this being just a bit too easy.” He wearily raises his holy symbol as it glows. "May the goddess of justice offer us her blessing in the trials ahead!" _
> 
> _ A soft blue glow settles around the three of them as they descend an earthen ramp. Isaac follows a trail of dimly phosphorescent fungi which illuminate what looks to be an altar. There is a figure chained to the floor just in front, long hair covering their face. The entire room smells of blood. The humanoid lays motionless, half buried in a sizable pile of gold, silver, and gems. “Trap?” asks Sly Isaac, but Sir Drayce is already rushing towards the altar.  _
> 
> _ A portal filled with twisting violet energy appears and a horrifying creature with stoney flesh and too many arms lumbers out of it. Sly Isaac readies his throwing axes and lunges forward only to be grabbed in the air and thrown violently to the far end of the chamber. _
> 
> _ "I knew this was a terrible idea..." Suzette whimpers, before tossing a flask of acid on the beast. “We should run. Maybe there’s something elsewhere in the temple that can help us.” _
> 
> _ Roaring, the abomination claws at its armored skin. As it steps towards her, Isaac staggers forward and slashes weakly at it. If his blades are even capable of harming it the creature doesn’t seem to care. It swats him to the ground again. "Isaac," Drayce calls out. "Isaac! Dammit, are you okay?" _
> 
> _ A few moments pass before he sees Sly Isaac limping to the ramp, luckily undetected by the beast. Good, thinks Sir Drayce. “Get him out, Suzette,” he says. His eyes dart around, looking for a safe retreat as he draws his sword but Suzette stops him with a hand on his shoulder.  _
> 
> _ "Wait, Drayce," Suzette crouches against the wall as the enraged monster screeches and flings bits of rubble at them. "We can’t face this thing. Not without help. You’re out of spells and healing and all that. We can’t risk it. Once we have a chance to get somewhere safe, maybe there’s something in the tunnels that can help. Potions, or weapons, or...” _
> 
> _ "No!” The knight shakes his head. "We can’t waste time looking for help! That person at the altar, they’re in a bad way.” He gestures wildly towards the emaciated figure. _
> 
> _ "Come on Drayce! That thing nearly killed me in one hit. It’s no joke. We can come back later.” Isaac limps towards them, a lit smoke bomb in his palm, head hung in either shame or physical pain. _
> 
> _ “They’re probably dead..” No sooner has Suzette offered this possibility than the chained figure stirs weakly, moaning softly. _
> 
> _ Drayce looks between the two of them, a cold glare in his eyes. “Yes, the two of you may retreat. By all means, keep yourselves safe. But I have a vow to uphold. I will never turn away from one who needs my help.” He shoulders his shield, unsteady as the monster shakes the cavernous temple. “If you ever see Quinfaren again…tell him...what became of me.” Then he turns and charges towards the abomination, swinging his sword in a wide circle. _

“I attack him.” Maya says suddenly, leaping to her feet. 

"Who?"

"Sir Drayce.  I have an opportunity attack if he leaves the space next to me.”

“Attack me? Why?”

“I’m not letting you run into certain death!” She throws her dice to the table. “Natural twenty.”

Phoenix glares at Gumshoe, his eyebrows knit together. “There’s no way she’s able to do this!” 

“Well, she does get an attack of opportunity, I think the rules allow for it.” Gumshoes scratches the back of his head and ruffles through a handbook. “Besides, it’s interesting and good for the story. I’m going to say it’s okay.” 

> _ Sir Drayce’s sword clatters to the ground. He snatches it back, just in time to see Isaac throw a net around him. And Drayce falls to the floor in a heap of plate armor and indignation. _
> 
> _ “I gave you this net!” he says, struggling to disentangle himself. “Why are my friends betraying me?” _
> 
> _ “It’s not that,” says Suzette. “We just can’t let you die out there, and you aren’t being reasonable.” _
> 
> _ He throws one of his arms in the general direction of the person on the altar. They’ve come to, and are scrambling, straining against the chains that bind them, trying furiously to escape the creature, who is devouring the treasure all around them. _
> 
> _ “Don’t you see that person will be killed!” he roars at his companions. _
> 
> _ “Look, I get it!” Suzette drags him towards the exit. “You think it’s easy for me, watching all that treasure get devoured?” _
> 
> _ “Treasure?” Sir Drayce blinks at her, dumbfounded. “You’re worried about the treasure? Someone is going to die a horrible death down there, and you’re worried about the treasure?” _
> 
> _ “We don’t even know who it is!” Isaac is helping her pull Drayce away from the rampaging monster. _
> 
> _ “NO!” Drayce claws at the net, livid. “I thought we were doing all this to be heroes,” he says, looking from Suzette to Isaac, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You can’t do this to me. I haven’t worked so hard for so long to just run away when someone needs help.” _
> 
> _ “Ummm....” _
> 
> _“I don’t care if I die!_ _At least I -_

-died doing the right thing!”

> _ “Hey, wait” _

“I thought we were on the same fucking team.”

“Nick.”

Maya places a hand on his shoulder, “You’re not using your Drayce voice. Are you okay?” 

He looks at her, suddenly empty, deflated. “I’m fine.” He looks down at his character sheet. The impromptu concert next door continues as they stare at him.

Finally, Phoenix gives an embarrassed sigh. "I don’t think I’m in the right mind to continue, guys. Sorry.” His voice is calm, but Maya knows him well enough to feel the sadness in it.

“Hey, it’s cool,” Larry says, wrapping an arm around Phoenix’s shoulders. “We can do something else. Popcorn and movies?”

“I’m going home.” Phoenix packs up his things, carelessly throwing his character sheet into his bag.

“Hey, wait,” Maya looks up at Phoenix, concerned. “Talk with me outside for a minute?”

Phoenix gives a half shrug.

“Sure,” he says, holding the door open for her.

He walks to the elevators and leans against the wall. “Sorry for blowing up like that. That was uncool of me.”

“I...just wish you’d tell me what’s really going on.” Maya fidgets with her hands, twisting them. “Is it Hazel? Is she bugging you again?”

“I think she moved to San Francisco. Good riddance.”

She waits for more, but it doesn’t come. “You saw a doctor about your head, right? Concussions can be crazy sometimes.”

“My head’s fine.” He brushes against the bruise on his temple, “Well, depends on...the context...I guess.”

“Hmmm...” She tucks her hair back behind her ear, wondering how best to help. _Take care of him_ Mia had said. Maya hadn't known at the time how hard that would be.

“Should I stop?” Phoenix asks her.

“Stop what?

“Coming here I guess. To D&D. Seems like I’ve kind of ruined everyone’s fun the last few times.”

“No way. You totally saved our bacon when we chased Ribbit into the frog dimension or whatever.”

“Oh god, the time Larry DM’d. Yeah, that was...interesting.”

She chews her lip for a bit. “I’ll only ask once, and then never mention it again. But….are you still sad about...?”

“I’m not sad. I have a brand new outlook on that.” 

She frowns at him. “Do tell.”

“I believe he actually is dead. Or at least he’s dead to me. Same difference.” 

“You don’t mean that.”

“I absolutely do.” He smacks the down button of the elevator with enough force to rattle the safety plaque above it.

“Nick,” she sighs. “I don’t agree with what he did. But I don’t know why you’re so angry about it. Still.”

He scoffs. “Don’t you think I deserve to be a little angry? I’m not like him. I’m not some law robot that only cares about…..who doesn’t care about anyone or anything.”

“Sure. You can be angry all you like. But I need to know something.”

“What?” He turns to her and she takes a deep breath and continues. 

“You were there for me when I needed you. Can you let me know if you need help?”

He sighs. “I’m not about to leave a note and disappear. That’s not me. Besides, you always help me.” He squeezes her hand and steps into the first elevator that opens.

“We’re still going to the circus right?”

He holds the doors open. “How do I let you talk me into these things?”

“It’s not for me! It’s for Pearls. She needs to just be a kid for a change, you know? And she misses you.” She shrugs, “But you know that.”

He smiles, just a little. “Yeah. Well, I better get going.” He shoulders his pack. “Thanks for everything.”

“Nick. I mean it. If you need me, just call. Or…”

He lets the doors close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm wrapping this fic up next week when I post the last chapter. :) Thanks so so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I have way too many other ideas as well, so...yeah. See ya next week.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning that this chapter will deal with depression, suicidal thoughts, etc.

The spring sunlight streams through Edgeworth’s window, rousing him from a fitful sleep. Perhaps he should be happy that sleep has come at all, but happy is certainly not what he feels at the moment.

It’s a delicious bit of irony, because he’s spent so much time thinking about being back here. Back in his own apartment, in his hometown, on his terms. Not beholden to anyone’s expectations. Free. Even from Mr. von Karma.

Not that it had come easily. Death had seemed the obvious choice at first, really. What else could one do when everything they believed in was a lie? But eventually he had been convinced to go back...home such as it was. To exchange one set of plans for another and disappear a bit differently. It hadn’t helped a lot, but it had kept him alive long enough to get in to see a doctor who was barely average, and a therapist who was...better. And then eventually all the things he supposed he should have done all those years ago. The medication, the journaling, and so on et cetera. It’s a touch embarrassing, looking back, that he was so erratic about everything last year. 

More embarrassing still that he was such a cynic, to believe that being able to defeat anyone in court was what made life meaningful. It wasn’t the way towards meaning, certainly. But he isn’t sure what is. Still.

Routine will help, he knows. That’s easy enough. Curtains open, teacups out. Then he’ll put the kettle on. It’s been so long since he lived here that it feels like someone else’s house, with odd items in every drawer. Breakfast? He looks through the cabinets, but soon realizes he hasn’t exactly had the chance to get groceries. No matter really, he‘s not hungry, but it’s just another thing to think about.  _ Regular meals, shower, twenty minute walk.  _ He’s been clinging to these minimal viable atoms of survival like a mantra, and it’s helped for the most part.

The only trouble is he can’t find his damn kettle anywhere.

It’s not with the pots and pans, or above the stove, or shoved in the back of the pantry with the fine china that he was gifted from some von Karma relation long ago. Each lead he thinks of (with the cleaning stuff? in the closet?) comes up empty, and despite the utter insignificance of the situation he can feel himself growing existentially despondent. He’s interrupted from this downward spiral by the sound of his phone buzzing on the counter.

He extracts himself as gracefully as he can manage from underneath the bed, where he’s found a long overdue parking ticket and a single sock but no kettle and glances at the screen. Who would be —

Phoenix Wright. But of course.

He wants to answer the call, but his hands don’t move, remaining crossed tightly across his chest. Eventually the buzzing stops. 

How could he even begin to explain things? Sure, they had made up, sort of. They could now go back to being colleagues, or something. Maybe never friends, not again. But an explanation was  _ owed  _ on his part. Where could he even begin? He thinks back to the one bit of contact he had with Phoenix during his impromptu vacation. A mysterious voicemail he’d left in the early morning hours some months ago.

“Oh hey— sorry. I don’t know why I called, but I guess I just wanted to talk. I was wondering where things went wrong. Ok, uh, bye.”

Yes, when he thinks about things in those terms:  _ what went wrong —  _ the whole thing is so obvious that it needs no explanation whatsoever.  _ I simply am no good for you, Phoenix Wright. A strong argument can be made that I am no good for anyone, but at the very least, I am no good for you. _

And that, of course, was his mistake. Not making that clear when Phoenix had pulled him aside so long ago. It would have saved them both a lot of trouble, probably. But here they were and if Phoenix wanted to rage at him for his mistakes, it seemed only fair.

That would be after he’s acquired some tea somehow, though. He ought to send a text in the meantime.

**Miles:** Apologies for missing your call, Mr. Wright. I’m catching up on some work. Perhaps we can talk later, if your schedule permits.

**Phoenix:** No worries!

_ Well that settles that— _

**Phoenix:** I really hope that you aren’t behind from helping me out though. I have to say, I don’t think I have it in me to show up to work at 7 am on a Saturday.

Miles feels himself freeze, wondering if his white lie is found out, somehow.

**Miles** : I have been away for quite a while. It doesn’t relate to you whatsoever.

It’s a bit harsh, but —- Phoenix has already replied.  _ Just like Wright to always have something to say. _

**Phoenix:** I’m just glad you’re back.

There’s more, of course. Miles braces himself for the inevitable. He’d heard bits and pieces from Gumshoe about how this had affected Phoenix. The word “broken-hearted” had been used. He was more than ready to be raked over coals.

**Phoenix:** I’ll let you get back to your work. But just wanted to say that we’re having D&D at Gumshoe’s at 10. Just if you want to come. No pressure.

What is this? It’s been months. He’s done things, said things that he regrets deeply. How dare he? Phoenix Wright can’t just offer him forgiveness like this. Not when he hasn’t earned it.

The texts are still flowing in.

**Phoenix:** Are you going back?

**Phoenix:** to Germany?

_ This is unfair,  _ Miles thinks. It would be so much easier if Phoenix wasn’t so  _ nice.  _ Easy or not, however...it would be best if they go their separate ways. 

**Miles** : Yes.

But perhaps not yet.

**Miles** : Eventually. But I will remain here in Los Angeles for the immediate future.

**Phoenix** : I’m really sorry, but can I call you? I won’t keep you long. I just have something I need to say.

And before he can even think to refuse, his phone is ringing again.

“Hey.”

Phoenix has that same nervous breathlessness as before. The kind that ties his stomach in knots because he feels a bit breathless too, sometimes, talking with him. There’s little need for caffeine now. Miles’ heart is racing.

“Hello, Mr. Wright.” He clears his throat. “Phoenix. I apologize. I’ll get it someday. Hello.”

“Uh, good morning! Hi. Sorry….umm…mmh.”

It’s strange to hear him stumbling over words like this, he’s usually so unnaturally, unnecessarily confident in court. 

“Well?”

“I just have something to say.”

Miles waits.

“Just...thanks. Thanks for helping so much with Maya and with the trial and the kidnapping…and all of it. And thanks for coming back. Honestly I… I missed you. I hope it’s not super weird for me to say that considering everything…”

“Phoenix,” Miles can feel his voice tighten, his throat thick with some inexplicable emotion.

“Sorry! Probably I’m reading too much into things. Again. I mean you came back for Franziska, which makes total sense. Is she recovering okay? Maybe I should give her a call too...do you have her number? Argh! Dumb question, sorry of course you have her number. You guys are siblings after all…”

“Mr. Wright.” He cuts off Phoenix’s rambling forcefully, but in truth he missed it. All his mannerisms that he once thought annoying, now seem, well,  _ cute. _

“Yes?”

“I’ll send over Franziska’s number. I doubt she will be happy to hear from you, but best of luck.”

He pauses a moment. “But I’m —“

“Busy,” supplies Phoenix. “I get it. I’ll let you go”

_ No no no no.  _ Now Miles is the one flailing around for words, silently.

“Just wanted to say thanks. And that I missed you. I mean, everyone did, obviously! So hopefully I’ll see you at Gumshoe’s. I hope we...can still be friends. Or whatever we are now. Colleagues, I guess. Whatever you want. Anyway...see ya.”

As the line goes dead, this last bit feels like a punch in the gut to Miles. It’s somehow worse than the idea of Phoenix hating him, this concept that they would have to go on forever at this chilly professional distance.  _ Colleagues _ ? Not friends even. And certainly nothing more than that.

He takes a deep breath and sinks into his writing desk chair. This certainly wouldn’t do.  _ I’ve had enough misery for one lifetime,  _ Miles thinks to himself as he gathers some ink and his favorite feather pen and begins to write.

He’s the first to arrive at Gumshoe’s, about a half hour early. Which, of course, sends the detective into a scarcely concealed panic. 

“Sorry, sir, I’m just cleaning house!” he says, answering the door in a pair of yellow rubber gloves as music plays loudly from a speaker in the corner. “I guess it’s as good as it’ll ever be though!” He pauses the music and ushers Miles inside.

Gumshoe rummages through a pile of papers on his kitchen table. “So, we’ve leveled up a few times since you’ve been gone.”

“I know.” He offers a neat stack of papers to Gumshoe. “I’m fairly certain I’ve advanced my character correctly. But you can double check if you like”

“Uh....” He flips through the pages. “There’s kind of a lot here. What’s all this stuff you stapled together after the spells?”

“Oh, I wrote out a backstory. I was reading through the email Wright sent a while ago explaining the whole thing to me. He said I should write out a backstory. So I did.” He tilts his head in Gumshoe’s direction. “It’s not exactly a riveting one, though. But hopefully it will offer inspiration for what Quinfaren has been up to.”

Gumshoe’s thumbing through the pages, eyes wide. “Right,” he says after a bit. “Well, uh, no one actually wrote out a backstory. It’s okay though! This is really cool. You want me to include some of this stuff in the next campaign? I think Quinfaren’s werewolf sister would be a good villain.”

“Well, hold off on that one. I might persuade Franziska to come along someday and I wouldn’t--” He pauses. “Next campaign?”

“Well….yeah. I was planning on today being the last session.” 

The door suddenly slams open. 

“No way!”

Like an over-anxious puppy, Larry Butz bounds up to Miles and embraces him. It’s...awkward, but still, it's somehow nice that he's actually been missed.

“How are you here? I thought you got shot or something??”

“That was…my sister….”

His eyes widen. “You….have a sister? No way…” He studies Miles for a minute. “Say, is she--”

“No.” Miles answers. “Absolutely not.”

There’s chatter, between Gumshoe and Larry. Boring, surface level things. The weather, current events, sports perhaps? Miles can’t be sure. 

Eventually he arrives. 

Phoenix has brought along Maya and her cousin, and as he bends down to help the girl remove her shoes, their eyes meet.

“You made it.”

“Yes,” says Miles. “I did.” He feels himself settle into it, that old familiar electricity between them. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Edgeworth.” Maya helps the younger girl settle in. “I agreed to let Pearly roll my dice for me, I hope I don’t regret it…”

At this the child’s head snaps up. “I’ll do my best Mystic Maya! I won’t let you down.”

“Ahaha, take it easy Pearls, it’s just a game after all.”

An odd feeling comes over Miles. A peaceful one. Like maybe, just maybe things would turn out okay. Like he actually belonged somewhere. As if to confirm this, Larry moves one seat over towards Gumshoe, pointedly leaving space on Phoenix's other side.

_ Well, here we go. _

> _ They’d done it.  _
> 
> _ That’s about all Quinfaren Inkstone can think, when the ragtag group he knows well shows up with the leader of the Bloodleaf Brotherhood in tow. It’s been a long time since he’d decided to part ways with them, and a lot had changed in the capital in the meantime.  _
> 
> _ Such as the cult now ruling the kingdom. _
> 
> _ Not many people knew this, of course. The king was careful to keep his disguise on most of the time. But he had made a fatal mistake in underestimating Quinfaren. Since he’d discovered this secret, Quinfaren had been very quietly working to get in the king’s inner circle. Waiting. Plotting. Preparing.  _
> 
> _ And now his friends had arrived and put themselves in grave danger without realizing it. _
> 
> _ So he does the only sensible thing and makes plans for them to meet up in secret at the cliffs on the edge of the capital to reveal what he’s learned. And then what? He ponders. They had Loronar in custody. Supposedly he was in the dungeons now and would be publicly executed in the morning. Quinfaren felt fairly sure that many in the cult would wake as if from a trance once the king was dead, but the trouble was with Loronar. Apparently the devil from the Nine Hells was imprisoned in some underground temple, but it could only move out of the castle once its bindings were broken. So, he deduced that Loronar’s death was needed to break the bindings, and the execution facilities this. So quite simply, they needed to keep Loronar alive and kill the king. _
> 
> _ He didn't yet know it, but he had made a significant mistake in his deductions. _
> 
> _ He greets his old friends at the end of the tour around the castle. He’s been tasked with showing them their rooms. The all look at him with distinctly different expressions. Sly Isaac is wary. Suzette is confused. Ribbit seems happy to see him. And Sir Drayce just looks blank, inscrutable. _
> 
> _ “Greetings,” he says. “I hope the tour wasn’t too dull. I’d imagine you’re tired after such a long journey.” _
> 
> _ Isaac steps forward, frowning. “No offense, but where the fuck have you been? You just up and left one night.” Quinfaren takes a step back. _
> 
> _ Sir Drayce lays a hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “I’m certain he had his reasons.” He speaks quietly now, Quinfaren notes. Like his entire loud, boisterous personality was folded up like a letter. _
> 
> _ One by one, he leads them to their rooms, and slips a note inside their pockets. It wasn’t safe to invite them any other way. And then he waits. And waits. And waits.  _
> 
> _ Finally, it’s time. When the sun sets, he heads towards the top of the cliffs outside the capital.  _
> 
> _ “Were you followed?” he asks. They’re all here. It looks like they arrived together. He has time to explain ever so briefly, but obviously some are skeptical than others.  _
> 
> _ “I have only one question,” says Sir Drayce. “Can we trust anyone besides you.” _
> 
> _ “Who says we can trust him?” asks Suzette. “I'm sure your crew never looked too kindly on deserters.” _
> 
> _ “Trust me, or not, it doesn’t matter. If you truly want to stop the Brotherhood we have to stop this execution.” _
> 
> _ The truth of it is that everyone does need to rest. They resolve to meet up before the execution in the morning.  _
> 
> _ Soon the inky sky dissolves into bright bands of pink and gold. Through the open-air atrium of the castle, they can clearly hear the cheering mob. The sounds of it turns Quinfaren’s stomach.  _
> 
> _ The minutes crawl by. Something's wrong.  _
> 
> _ Suddenly, there’s a slash of blue light and swirling mist covers the atrium, gradually blocking out light until it’s nearly pitch black, save for the hundreds of lit candles lining the walls. He can hear heavy, thundering steps that shake the ground. _
> 
> _ The king runs out. "You're too late!" He gives a wild, wide-toothed grin, raising a wand towards them before being felled by Suzette's arrows. As he falls to the ground, the earth rumbles and an unholy scream pierces the air. _
> 
> _ Suzette runs down the stairs, loading her crossbow as she presses herself against the wall. Quinfaren turns to her, “I’m going after Loronar.” And he runs towards the dungeons. As he does, a large humanoid creature with horns, wings, and glowing orange skin barrels into the atrium, swiping its tail at Suzette. The spikes on its tail rend holes in her shirt and cloak. But the bulk of the tail slams into Sir Drayce, who deflects it easily with a glowing shield. _
> 
> _ Ribbit runs alongside Quinfaren towards the dungeon, wriggling through gaps in the walls doors with ease. A shadow scuttles away in front of them. Isaac, alongside them, tries to shoot down the hall towards it but the shadow is too fast, seeming to melt into the walls. _
> 
> _ And then they hear the devil above begin to chuckle deeply. Running back up towards the atrium, they see Drayce and Suzette doing battle with the beast whilst Loronar, still alive and well apparently, casts a dark ritual to empower it.  _
> 
> _ Suzette attempts to shoot Loronar directly, but he deflects the bolts easily. Sir Drayce manages to smite Loronar, alighting his flesh with holy energy, but soon after he is engulfed in flames by the devil’s trident. Closing his eyes to concentrate, Quinfaren attempts to cast a spell to damage the devil’s mind. But the devil sees through the illusion, and shoots a blast of mental energy back at Quinfaren. A loud crack echoes in his ear. He casts again, teleporting briefly to the stairs by Sir Drayce. _
> 
> _ “Ribbit!” Suzette yells, “Don't let him complete the summoning.” He bites at the mage who started the entire adventure, but in the chaos he's able to sidestep her easily.  _
> 
> _ The devil’s laughter becomes deafening. A massive shadow begins to emerge from the center of the atrium. _
> 
> _ With a yell of frustration and desperation, Isaac throws down a small smoke bomb at Loronar's feet. There’s a brilliant flash of golden light, and then he is behind the mage, hidden and waiting to pounce. _
> 
> _ But it's too late. The devil's grin seems to fill the atrium. It raises its trident, and lightning crackles down the length of it. It raises its tail once more and brings it down across Sir Drayce's side, slicing his armor apart easily. He cries out, and Quinfaren sees blood drip from the wound. _
> 
> _ "No!" he cries out. Sir Drayce staggers, but regains his footing.  _
> 
> _ "Quinfaren," he says. "You need to get close enough while I distract it." He shoves a scroll into Quinfaren's hands. "It's a scroll of Banishment. You can send them both to the Nine Hells where they belong." _
> 
> _ "You can do that, I'll do the distraction." _
> 
> _ "No," he says. "You're still pretty weak. Physically. No offense, elf." _
> 
> _ "Quite a lot of offense taken." He looks at the demon. "Fine." He chants softly to himself and suddenly disappears from view. Trying to ignore the fear belatedly rising in his stomach he runs towards the devil. Suzette, Ribbit, and Isaac seem to be earning their well earned revenge on Loronar, but he's not going down without a fight. He blasts frozen spikes from the end of his wand towards Ribbit, who screams as they embed into his body.  _
> 
> _ "I am not easy to kill, you pests!" _
> 
> _ "We don't need to kill you." He appears in the midst of the melee, and begins reading from the scroll, drawing an arcane symbol on the floor. The devil seems to see him, and hurls a bolt of fire at him. It sails wide beyond him. lighting the tapestries on fire. But Quinfaren is able to finish the spell.  _
> 
> _ The devil screams in rage, and everything starts to grow dark. Lorarnar smiles wickedly, and waves his hands in a familiar motion, the spell Quianfaren had used to teleport earlier. But before he's able to get the spell off, Sly Isaac's blade sings across his throat. And just like that it's over. _
> 
> _ Sir Drayce is lying slumped on the stairs. Quinfaren runs over to him. "I'm sorry," he says softly. So sorry. It's wrong, he thinks, all wrong. I just found you again, why would you have to leave so soon. _
> 
> _ "Help him!" he hears someone screaming, realizing it's him after a moment. Suzette appears next to him. "I don't know how," she says, her eyes wide. "Why is he bleeding so much? It doesn't make sense."  _
> 
> _ Quinfaren feels a sinking helplessness rise from his chest as he watches Sir Drayce’s breathing grow slow and shallow. But then Isaac reaches for a small vial hanging on his belt. The liquid inside glows with a soft green-gold light.  _
> 
> _ “No,” says Suzette, “Isaac that’s for Nella! We worked so hard to get that.” _
> 
> _ “Yeah, but we can’t let him die. Nella....well we don't know right? Maybe she'll wake up now that Lorarnar is dead.” He lowers his eyes. "And maybe she's dead already. But Drayce is chosen by the gods, so maybe he can put in a favor for Nella too. Not if he's dead though." _
> 
> _ “Get his head up, then.” Suzette says. Quinfaren gently supports Sir Drayce's head, brushing his soft iridescent hair off his pale blue skin.  _
> 
> _ Suzette holds the vial to Drayce’s lips and pours the glowing liquid down his throat. As it disappears down his throat, he coughs, and opens his eyes.  _
> 
> _ “Quinfaren?” he asks weakly. “Where is...” _
> 
> _ Quinfaren sighs in relief. “Dead. We’ve done it. The brotherhood is gone.” _

“That’s it, then.” 

Gumshoe closes his handbook and surveys the room. “Campaign over.”

Miles feels distinctly unsatisfied. “What? What happened to Nella? Is she alright? And who will be the new king?” 

“That’s just like you to think of details like that, sir. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about the king. Nella lives happily ever after though.” Gumshoe smiles. “Not sure about everyone else though.”

“Hmm.....”

“Sorry, Mr. Edgeworth. I guess I really might have to come up with more stuff. But... I think everyone else was wanting to try a different setting after this.” 

“No, don’t change the plan on my behalf,” Miles says sheepishly. There’s still something else he needs to say. The group breaks up a bit, Larry and Gumshoe returning to their inane conversations in the kitchen, Maya fiddling with her phone. He sneaks a glance over at Phoenix who is busy pouring over the Monster Manual with Pearl.

He takes a deep breath and wraps an arm around Phoenix’s shoulders about as casually as he can manage. “Do you mind...joining me outside for a minute.” 

He feels Phoenix’s shoulders stiffen briefly, but then he’s smiling and learning towards him. “Sure, of course.”

He chews his lip. “Thank you for inviting me, by the way. I wasn’t sure if..I was still welcome.”

Phoenix looks surprised. “You’re always welcome. It hasn’t been the same without you.” He sighs lightly. “Sorry that I fucked everything up so bad.”

Maya shoots him a dirty look and gestures at the girl next to her.

“Sorry, pardon my French.” He stands up, eyes wandering over to the stack of papers by Edgeworth. “What’s all this?”

“Er… a backstory. I…”

“You wrote all this?” Phoenix thumbs through the pages. “Geez, I’m sorry. I should have told you it was the last session.”

“It’s quite alright. I think Gumshoe was happy to have an explanation for Quinfaren’s recent actions. Though it seems he’s very creative when he needs to be.”

Phoenix gives him a sidelong look. “A bit too creative sometimes.”

“Agreed.”

They step into the hallway, and Phoenix retrieves a small bit of stationary from the back of the documents.

“What’s this one?”

“Ah…” Edgeworth deftly closes the door behind them. “Well…”

It seems stupid now. He isn’t quite sure what he was thinking. That he would read this out loud, right at the table?

“Oh, it’s…” He watches Phoenix’s cheeks flush. “A poem for Quinfaren’s long lost love?”

He can’t seem to speak, merely nods as Phoenix unfolds the paper.

“Whoa.” He squints at Miles’ tidy script. “Cursive. Did you write this yourself?”

“Um, yes.” Miles thinks he’s blushing now as well. “With a feather pen. I thought it seemed, you know, authentic.”

“Wow,” Phoenix shakes his head, tracing over the letters. “It’s...really cool. But...also...kinda hard to read.” 

“Hah, well...sorry. I was trying out something new with the lettering, that’s why it’s a bit elaborate. I...can read it out if you want.” Without waiting for a response he begins.

Dearest, sweetest, shining knight. 

My heart sings loud what my voice cannot say. 

My love burns bright for you, like a glowing sword. 

I would cut through any foe, for you. 

It would give me no pause, no hesitation. 

I would do anything for you. 

I could rival the most dreadful dragon, 

and lure it away, without second thought.

I would face a demon lord without flinching, to save you. 

I would....”

He can’t continue. His embarrassment is reaching a critical level. “I do apologize, Mr. Wright,” he stammers. “I get a bit carried away sometimes. And this is dreadfully inappropriate especially after I… it’s in poor taste. Again, I’m sorry.” He starts to crumple the paper, but Phoenix reaches out a hand to stop him.

“No! You are not allowed to do that. It was....really sweet.” He releases his hand but lets his fingers linger for a second longer than necessary. 

Miles can feel his heartbeat in his ears. “I...wanted to clarify....what I meant before. When you asked about...the outing. Date, I suppose.” He seems to have lost the ability to look at anything but his shaking hands. “What I meant was...that I didn’t want to disrupt things at work. That’s all. It’s something I take very seriously as I’m sure you are aware. Well, and also Franziska is a bit difficult but I suppose you know all about that now. And I...am also difficult in my own way. But really I always,” He swallows. “Wanted to say yes. But it’s too little too late, I’m more than well aware--” 

“Mr. Edgeworth,” Phoenix leans in close. “With all due respect, please shut up.” And before Miles can plead his case any further, Phoenix’s lips are on his.

All of his carefully written papers have fallen to the ground, but he can’t pay attention to anything besides that warm, soft mouth moving against his, and Phoenix’s fingers against his jaw, his own fingers twined in Phoenix’s hair. 

Their first kiss is over far too soon as the door beside them swings open.

“Eep! Oh...uh…” A beet red Maya retreats back inside. “Sorry! I was just wondering...if everything was okay…”

“Nosy,” he hears Phoenix mutter under his breath, and then at a normal volume, “We were talking about--”

“Dinner,” Miles supplies. “Or drinks. Whichever Mr. Wright informs me is more socially acceptable for a first date.”

Maya peeks out from beyond the door. “I think he just wants to get out of paying for dinner.”

“Um, no!” Phoenix struggles to shut the door. “I plan on paying for dinner, I am a gentleman.”

Larry appears from nowhere beside her. “Who’s a gentleman?”

“Nick is, he’s paying for Mr. Edgeworth’s dinner.”

“Oh what?” Larry looks at him gravely. “Listen, Edgey…” he grabs Miles on the shoulder, “I want you to know that just because Nick is paying for dinner, it doesn’t mean you’re obligated to do anything you’re uncomfortable with…”

“Please,” whines a despondent Phoenix, “will the both of you, just.” He manages to finally close the door to give them a few more moments of privacy.

“Sorry about my friends,” Phoenix says softly, taking both his hands in his.

“Well...” Miles says, “I suppose, I’m stuck with them.”

“Yeah,” Phoenix says brightening. “Well they’re your friends too now.”

“Oh no,” he can’t resist adding.

“Hey, do you wanna go do something now? There’s a cafe nearby...it’s Steel Samurai themed.”

“YOU’RE WELCOME, NICK!” shouts a voice from inside.

Miles laughs, allowing himself to be led towards the stairs. As their lips meet once more, it occurs to him that perhaps all this was more than a game. He’s found his knight in shining armor after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> itsdone.jpg. Hoo boy, what a rush it's been. Thanks so much to everyone who read this! Especially those who left comments and kudos. I think I'm actually addicted to writing now, so I'll definitely have more fics in the future. I'm aware this one was both quite goofy and very angsty teen drama haha, so I'm hoping next time I'll do something more serious but less *serious*.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I reworked my original concept for this story as an epilogue. Enjoy the bonus chapter.

> _The full moon shines brightly as a cloud drifts overhead, casting the world in an eerie light._
> 
> _From somewhere in the treeline, a man screaming in terror echoes through the night. The moon glints off the magistrate's blade as he shouts into the darkness._
> 
> _"You never stop fighting, do you?" the villain says, breaking the silence. "Even after you've given up everything you once held dear, you don't stop fighting. You're not making it any easier for me, you know."_
> 
> _He turns to the young man chained to a fence post in front of him. "I've got to do this. Your strength isn't enough. You would be wise to give up now."_
> 
> _The hero raises one of his arms, but he's too restrained to do much of anything. Instead, he roars at his enemy._

"WHAT? I CAN'T MOVE AT ALL?"

"Not enough to use the slash.” Miles shakes his head at Phoenix. “You could try the kick attack. It's part of your skillset."

"All this homebrew makes everything so complicated. Where the hell is everyone else?" Phoenix grumbles, frowning at his character sheet. 

"We went off to chase the Oni, but you had to play the lone hero as per usual," says Maya, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, it paralyzed me," says Larry, grinning. “So I'm just unconscious in the rice paddy, I guess.”

"The one I'm right next to?"

“Right.”

Phoenix snatches up Larry's sheet. His eyes scan over it furiously before he sets it down and treats his friend to a withering glare.

"Larry, you're immune. To. Paralysis. Because you insisted on taking that gem from the temple last time…”

“He's not immune," Miles tries to correct them.

“I forgot! I totally AM immune!”

Miles sighs heavily. “If you are referring to the Fujin Emerald, you merely get advantage on saves against paralysis, stuns, and --”

Phoenix interrupts. “So that means--”

“Fine! Larry go ahead, but it’s a difficult save so I doubt--”

Larry doesn’t have to be told twice. “Awesome! Natural 20!” he shouts, pumping his fist in the air.

"No, no, no!" Miles Edgeworth says. "Now hold on, that was like...four rounds ago."

"But I made my save," Larry insists, eyes wide and innocent.

“You’re still paralyzed!”

“Miles,” Phoenix has joined in with the huge puppy-dog eyes, which makes sticking to his guns nearly impossible for Miles.

“I’m sorry, but Larry would have had disadvantage from earlier. Remember how you all went through the stinging brambles earlier? He didn’t make the Dexterity save. So the advantage and disadvantage cancel out. Therefore the original roll is the only one that counts.”

"Well, he should have had the advantage on that check, too then!"

“Phoenix….arngh!”

“It’s only fair!”

“Larry. You may roll a second time--”

“Oh. My. God. Twenty again.”

Miles slumps down in disbelief. “This is ridiculous. All right, take your damn turn Larry.”

“What? It’s still my turn!” Phoenix says.

“You can’t do anything!”

“I can hold an action for when I’m not tied up!”

“Phoenix, you certainly may, but it’s more advantageous if you wait, the party is split right now and--”

A book slams down on the table, followed in short order by Franziska’s fist. “What is wrong with you people? Quit your foolish bickering, you pathetic lovebirds,” she growls, eyes flashing. “I am next up in initiative. And I am casting Fireball.”


End file.
